With This Ring, I Thee Wed
by libraflyter
Summary: Buffy and Spike find themselve getting married in Something Blue and dealing with the consequences. PERMANENT HIATUS
1. Chapter One

With this Ring, I thee Wed  
  
Disclaimer: If you believe I own these characters, there is a lovely bridge I can sell you in Brooklyn.  
  
Summary: During Something Blue, Buffy and Spike actually do get married. Some dialogue freely borrowed from the episode.  
  
Pairing: B/S  
  
Feedback: Insert witty plea here. : )  
  
***  
  
It was nine o'clock. Admittedly, not exactly the wee hours of the morning, but still a time when people weren't supposed to be banging on your door. Danielle Addams, justice of the peace, seriously wondered what the world was coming to.  
  
She opened the door. Two blondes stood outside, a fluffy haired woman who obviously favored good quality hair dye and a man who obviously skipped the good dyes and used peroxide straight from the bottle. They were holding hands and exchanging radiant looks. Young love. It had to be.  
  
The woman spoke up. "Will you marry us?"  
  
***  
  
Danielle waved at the departing couple, now Mr. And Mrs. William Montgomery. It was a little unorthodox, to be certain, but she was a hopeless romantic at heart. She had been unable to resist their request when the man - Spike, he called himself - had said, "I want the whole world to know she's mine". And then Buffy had beamed at him, "I've always been yours."  
  
After that, she had happily performed the ceremony. A couple that in love deserved to have it legalized. They assured her they wanted a more formal ceremony later, but were too impatient to wait on the vows. Danielle had a strong feeling their next stop was the closest motel for the honeymoon.  
  
Ah, to be young and in love.  
  
***  
  
As Spike drove them back to Giles, Buffy stared at the ring now on her finger. On their way to the justice of the peace, Spike had stopped and gotten them two rings from a pawn shop. He swore to her that they had been bought legally. Buffy doubted that, but part of their love would involve trusting him about these details. Besides, as simple as the gold band was, what it represented was beautiful.  
  
And this was beautiful. Buffy couldn't believe how wonderful she felt. It was if every song of true love was bursting to come out of her. She was happy, she was wonderful, she was loved. The last time she had felt close to this was Angel.  
  
At that thought Buffy looked guiltily over at Spike. They still had some issues to work out, the former mortal enemy thing and all, but nothing could keep them apart now. They were married. She was now Mrs. Buffy Summers Montgomery.  
  
Being in love with Spike was wonderful. What she had shared with Angel was wishing dreams come true. What she had with Spike was waking up from the dream and it being true.  
  
Spike was pulling into a motel parking lot now. Buffy glanced worriedly at him. Giles was still blind, maybe they should head back straight to his place. But then she saw the look he gave her. Giles would be okay for a little while...  
  
***  
  
At an hour closer to dawn than not, Buffy and Spike finally returned to Giles'. Before entering, Buffy went through a quick checklist.  
  
Shirt on straight? Check. Buttons done properly? Check. Hickeys, etc. all covered up? Check. Buffy hugged the red silk shirt Spike had lent her close.  
  
"C'mon, luv, we'll have to face them sometime."  
  
Buffy made a face. With the exception of Danielle Addams, everyone had treated her newfound love with Spike as a mistake. But it was real! It had to be - how could something so good not be?  
  
She gave Spike a kiss for luck. A few moments later they broke apart, as it grew in intensity.  
  
"Check on Giles, then leave," Buffy panted. Spike nodded enthusiastically. Not that he particularly cared about the Watcher, but whatever his Slayer cared about was now what he would at least try to be bothered with.  
  
They entered the apartment, hand in hand.  
  
"Buffy! You're back!"  
  
Xander and Anya were facing the door, loaded crossbows in hand. The corpse of a lesser demon lay at Anya's feet. Giles was still on the couch, his eyes still looking ahead blankly.  
  
"Willow did a spell!" Xander said frantically. "She's making all this weird stuff happen and now there's a bunch of demons chasing me and you're under it too!"  
  
Buffy blinked. Paused a moment, then blinked again.  
  
"Is this why Giles is all blind now?"  
  
"Yes and why I've got demon problems and why you're all touchy feely with Spike right now," Xander said. He grimaced at the last part, as he noticed all the snuggliness the two had going. There was something wrong with Spike tracing little patterns on Buffy's hand. And what was she doing with his shirt on all buttoned up? Ahh! Bad images!  
  
Buffy frowned. "I'm not under a spell. I probably only escaped because I'm the Slayer. Some kind of natural immunity."  
  
Xander stared at her, disbelieving. "Yeah. Right. You're marrying Spike because you're so right for each other."  
  
At that, Buffy and Spike shared a knowing look. Spike pulled her close against him and whispered in her ear, "Tell them."  
  
With her honey backing her up, Buffy prepared to share the wonderful news of her marriage when Anya's voice broke in, demanding, "We have to find Willow! Xander and I can't have sex until the demons stop trying to kill him!"  
  
"Now that Anya has set our priorities straight," Giles came in dryly, "could you go find Willow and get this damned thing reversed? I'd rather not be experiencing this incapacitating blindness, thank you."  
  
Buffy sighed. Her happy news would have to wait until this mess had been cleaned up; now was not a good time to announce "I married Spike!".  
  
"Let's go then."  
  
"Hey! What about our - "  
  
Buffy cut Spike off with a passionate kiss. Xander tried very hard not to look, Giles wished he was deaf, too, and Anya wondered what the big deal was.  
  
"We can talk about that later, honey. I have to go do my job."  
  
"About that, luv, we have to talk. I don't like the idea of you working."  
  
"What, you want me to stop working?"  
  
"Let's see - do I want you to give up killing all my friends? Yeah, I've given it some thought."  
  
"I am a woman of the twentieth century and if I want to work then I damn well will."  
  
The two blondes continued the argument as they went out the door. Xander followed, deciding that the bickering was better than the lovey- dovey act. Though did they have to punctuate every other word with a kiss or some similarly disgusting thing?  
  
By the time they had reached Buffy and Willow's dorm room, Xander had watched three arguments, each followed by a make up and make out session. Which was admittedly impressive to do, when you consider the whole thing was periodically interrupted by fighting with various demons. If they couldn't reverse the spell, he wondered if Buffy and Spike would survive being married to each other. They still fought - they just necked in between and did they really have to do that in front of him?  
  
"Hands above the waist, Dead Boy! Or better yet, hands away from Buffy!"  
  
***  
  
"Let the healing power begin. Let my will be safe again. As these words of peace are spoken, let this harmful spell be broken."  
  
Buffy suddenly realized several things all at once. She was a) on top of a guy, b) she was kissing said guy, and c) said guy was SPIKE!  
  
"Oh, ughh!" What the hell had come over her? Spike. No, no, no, don't even go there. She had just...She was...Oh my gosh...  
  
"Spike lips! Lips of Spike!" Control gag reflex. Also control all memories saying gag reflex is unnecessary. Such as the one saying Spike lips are very nice. "Ugh!"  
  
At least Spike was having a similar reaction. He was spitting and sputtering as if he just had gotten a mouthful of brine. Buffy felt better. Except for the very bad part which wanted to know what was so wrong with the lips of Buffy. But that part was being told to be very quiet and go sit in a corner.  
  
"Hi, guys."  
  
Willow, if you were not my best friend, you would be so dead.  
  
***  
  
"Don't I get a cookie?" Spike was still sulking about being tied to a chair. Not that he'd admit he was sulking - Master vampires do not sulk! Nor do they marry Slayers, an annoying voice told him.  
  
"No."  
  
Bitch. "Well, I gotta have something. I still have Buffy taste in my mouth." The same annoying voice whispered, and what a good taste that is. He told it to shut up. The only good thing that came out of this was that he now had something to lord over the Slayer. She couldn't act so high and mighty with him now, not after all they did together. Then his mind went to a happy place about all that they did get to do - Snap out of it! The only lust for the Slayer should be of the blood kind.  
  
"You're a pig, Spike."  
  
She kept that up, it would be easy to go back to the bloodlust and hatred. Yeah, that's the ticket. Focus on what a self righteous little (wife) bitch she was.  
  
"Is that anyway to speak to your - "  
  
Buffy gave him a warning look. It quite clearly said, "If you mention wife, marriage, or any related words, I will stake in the most painful fashion possible."  
  
" - fiancé."  
  
Buffy's eyes narrowed, deciding to let it go. Spike rolled his eyes. He'd let her win this round. But just you wait, Slayer, you'll get yours.  
  
Provided he escaped from his bonds, tracked down whoever messed with his head, and returned triumphant to drink the Slayer's blood.  
  
Spike licked his lips at that thought, remembering how willing a certain Slayer had been just a few hours ago. Reminding her of those memories could make his waiting all the more enjoyable.  
  
***  
  
Buffy hummed happily on the way to the college post office. She'd just managed to reestablish her relationship with Riley and he seemed to be willing to ignore her whole "I'm marrying a guy named Spike" phase. It wasn't like she was married. The justice of the peace had probably just humored them with a little ceremony; didn't an actual marriage take all kinds of paperwork?  
  
La, la, la. Pick up her mail, read her mail, return her rings to Spike - she hadn't gotten around to doing that yet. Dealing with Spike was something she was soo not into doing lately. He'd get this gloating expression on his face, then he'd start leering. Then she'd start remembering a certain motel room, turn bright red, and he'd leer some more.  
  
Staking was becoming a viable option. As long as he got staked (but he's pretty good at the staking himself) and she so needed to talk to Will about a forgetting spell.  
  
Junk mail, letter from Mom (we're still in the same town, why does she write letters?), a flyer about a self defense class (not like I'd need that) and an official looking envelope.  
  
Buffy had a very, very, VERY bad feeling about that last one.  
  
She opened it. It was the marriage license for one William Blood Montgomery and Buffy Anne Summers.  
  
Oh no.  
  
There was a notice saying this was only a copy; the actual license was filed in the Town Hall. There was some more stuff on the legalities of changing your maiden name. Some secretary had tucked in a note reading "Congratulations Mr. And Mrs. Montgomery".  
  
Apparently Danielle Addams had actually married them. Buffy stared at the unreturned ring on her finger, flashing back to that night.  
  
A husky British voice, meeting her eyes with a look full of adoration, whispering, "With this ring, I thee wed."  
  
Buffy collapsed against the wall. How could she be married? To Spike? And more importantly, how could she get unmarried? 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
"Giles!" Buffy stormed into his apartment, papers in hand. "Giles, I need to talk to you!"  
  
Giles looked up from The Mythos of Central America (a fascinating read) and wondered, with some concern, what Buffy was panicking about. Was there some new demon emerging in Sunnydale? He profoundly hoped not; the so-called "commando guys" were causing him enough worries.  
  
"Yes, Buffy?"  
  
Buffy stopped in front of him, panting from having run all the way from campus. Now that she was here, though, she seriously didn't want to admit what a Big Problem she had. Everything was weird enough with the engagement - did she have to say it was now a marriage?  
  
Yes, you do, her conscience whispered. If you want guilt free Riley dating, you have to get a divorce. Her bad voice piped up with, are you sure we want Riley dating? Buffy decided to ignore the bad voice.  
  
"Remember when Willow did her will-be-done spell?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And she made Spike and I get engaged?"  
  
"Yes." Giles wondered where this was leading.  
  
"Spike and I kind of went beyond the engagement part."  
  
Giles frowned. Was she saying what he thought she was?  
  
"We got married."  
  
Dear lord. She was saying what he thought she was. Giles had a sudden need for a drink.  
  
"How could that possibly have happened?!"  
  
"Well, remember how we went out to get the spell ingredients and didn't come back for a long time? When we couldn't get the stuff, Spike suggested that we elope and have a formal wedding later because so many people were giving us a hard time and then I said yes and then we found a justice of the peace and she married us and I didn't tell you before because I thought that she was just humoring us and we weren't really married and how do I get unmarried?"  
  
Buffy paused to breathe. "Giles, I can't be married! He's Spike! My husband is SPIKE!"  
  
At that moment, since things always had to get worse, Spike ambled into the room.  
  
"What's going on? Something nasty about to jump out of the shadows?"  
  
"The only nasty thing here is you, Spike," Buffy snapped automatically.  
  
"Really, luv, you weren't saying that a few days ago."  
  
"It was a spell!"  
  
"The aftereffects of which I am only recently learning," Giles broke in. It was always wisest to head them off before they began a full fledged spat. "Spike, are you aware that you are legally married to Buffy?"  
  
Spike was very grateful he didn't have to breathe; otherwise he would be doing some very undignified choking right now. While he had been amused with the idea of being married to the Slayer, he hadn't actually expected the ceremony to have been fully legal.  
  
"Married?" He squeaked, shook himself out of his stupor, repeating the in a more normal tone, "I'm married?"  
  
"Yup," Buffy replied, "Check out the license for William Blood Montgomery and Buffy Anne Summers. Apparently it's all nice and filed away at the town hall."  
  
Spike stared at the piece of paper she held. It was very official looking. Bloody hell! He. Was. Married.  
  
Huh. Oddly enough, he didn't feel as grossed out as he ought to be. Having this sort of tie to the Slayer could potentially be interesting. Maybe even a little fun. Spike checked out Buffy, looking all flustered and upset. Make that VERY fun.  
  
"How do we fix this?" Buffy asked desperately. "I can't be married! I have a date with Riley next week! What am I'm going to say, guess what I did marry Spike?"  
  
"Well," Giles started slowly, "you could get a divorce. I am not sure about the legalities of getting one, but a visit to a local divorce lawyer would shed some light on the situation."  
  
"Okay, I can do that. How long does it take to get a divorce?"  
  
"Some time. A few months, perhaps, for all the paperwork to be processed. I imagine that if you want to file one so soon after marriage it would be a good indication that you two are unsuited for each other."  
  
Listen to Giles. Giles is making sense. And if you start divorce proceedings, doesn't it make it, like, legal to date and stuff? That's what her dad had said, anyway. Not that her dad was the best judge of these things - he started "dating" about two years before her mom filed for divorce.  
  
Talk to a lawyer, sign a bunch of papers, and this could be fixed by the end of the year. No problemo.  
  
"What if I don't want a divorce?"  
  
Of course Spike couldn't make this easy for her.  
  
"What? I thought you were all about 'eww, Slayer cooties'. Why would YOU want to stay married?"  
  
"Maybe I like the idea of being married to the Slayer." Spike leered at her. "There could be some definite benefits."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"I'm your lawfully wedded husband, Slayer." He smirked. "Maybe I like the idea of seeing if you'll keep your vows. Since we're married and all, you really shouldn't be making dates with other blokes. Guess you'll have to tell this Riley fellow to get lost. Can't have you going off and committing adultery, Little Miss Righteous, now can we?"  
  
If eyes could shoot daggers, Spike would be a pincushion. The problem was, he was right. As long as she was technically married to Spike, Buffy wouldn't be comfortable dating Riley. After watching her parents' marriage break up, she had too much respect for the institution to do that.  
  
Buffy sometimes wished for an infusion of more Faith-like morals. Of course, if she was channeling her inner Faith, she'd be doing Spike and Riley. And she was not going to dwell on how fun it had been to do Spike.  
  
Spike smirked, as if he had read her mind. Buffy flushed and focused her mind back to the situation at hand.  
  
"Giles, I so need a divorce." And was it just her, or was there something wrong with that statement? She was nineteen, dammit; she shouldn't be married in the first place! Especially to evil, neutered (sexy) mortal enemy vampires. This sort of thing was supposed to happen on the soap operas her mom was addicted to. Not in real life!  
  
"It is possible to get a divorce even when one party is against it," Giles reassured her. "It will simply be more difficult."  
  
Buffy nodded, thanked him, and grabbed her papers before heading to the door.  
  
"OW! Watch the nose, Slayer!"  
  
Buffy smiled as she stepped off the stoop. Punching Spike always made her feel better.  
  
***  
  
"Hello, Riley? It's Buffy," she twirled the phone cord in one hand, listening to his effusive greetings and inwardly wincing as he spoke about how eager he was for them to go on their date.  
  
"Riley, about dinner next week, I can't make it."  
  
Murmurs of concern and suggestions for a new date.  
  
"Something's come up."  
  
What to tell him; something that would keep her options open without breaking her vows. Wait! Group date. Perfectly non-threatening dating action.  
  
"Instead of going out to dinner, why don't we hook up with some friends of mine at the Bronze?"  
  
Pause.  
  
"Yeah, it'll be a group thing."  
  
Another pause.  
  
"Of course I want to spend time with you! It's just that my last boyfriend, we went too fast and I don't want to - "  
  
That's sweet. He was cheerily bashing Parker and assuring her they had nothing in common. Points for that.  
  
"Thanks for the thought. See you around? Good bye."  
  
With a sigh, Buffy put the phone back into the cradle. With any luck, she could keep her relationship with Riley at a non-state long enough to obtain a divorce.  
  
She flopped onto her bed, wondering what the hell to do with this mess.  
  
You know, logic voice told her, if you staked Spike you're troubles would be over with. He turns to dust, you're a widow, and you can go off and date whoever you damn well like.  
  
Moral voice decided to put in its two cents. Killing Spike while he's defenseless is wrong. Not to mention he's your husband now. Isn't there a law against killing your husband? Like, it's extra special bad to do that?  
  
But Spike is evil, logic voice insisted. How can killing an evil vampire be wrong?  
  
The bad voice decided to pipe up. Why do we want to kill Spike? He makes life interesting. Not to mention if he gets dusted, there will be no more motel fun activities. And we liked motel fun activities! And the real thing would be much, much better than our dreams.  
  
We are having no dreams! Moral voice started freaking. Logic voice nodded emphatically. There will be no more Spike centered thoughts! Bad bad voice!  
  
Buffy groaned. At this rate, she'll be as crazy as Drusilla. Which, given she was now married to Spike, had a certain irony about it.  
  
"What's wrong, Buffy?"  
  
Buffy opened her eyes to see Willow standing over her with a concerned expression.  
  
"Spike and I are married," she announced.  
  
"You're not married. You were going to get married and I'm so very sorry about that but I broke the spell before any marrying took place!" Willow insisted frantically.  
  
"Nope. In our lovely spell induced haze, we decided to elope. I just received a copy of the marriage certificate today. You are now speaking to Mrs. Buffy Summers Montgomery."  
  
"His last name is Montgomery?"  
  
"Apparently. But that's beside the point. Will, you've got to help me find a lawyer. I can't stay married to SPIKE!"  
  
"Okay. Calm down. Whatever you say, Buffy. Would you like some more cookies? I still have leftovers."  
  
Willow began to mentally tally how many cookies she would need to bake. Maybe a mountain's worth? Making your friend get accidentally married to her mortal enemy was definitely a major league cookie event. She might even have to take out her great-aunt's recipe for triple- chocolate mousse. A situation like this required the big guns.  
  
***  
  
A few days later, Buffy entered the offices of Edward Marcus Harmon, Attorney-at-Law. She carried the assorted papers detailing her marriage and sent up a plea to the Powers-that-Be that Harmon would be able to help her.  
  
"Mr. Harmon will see you now," the secretary told her.  
  
Buffy entered his office nervously. Ed Harmon was sitting at his desk, a pleasant looking man with hair graying at the temples and a generous paunch.  
  
"Miss Summers, it is? Please, sit down."  
  
Buffy sank into one of the chairs gratefully. This was even more nerve-wracking than facing the Master.  
  
"Now, what seems to be the problem?"  
  
"I want to get a divorce." Simple enough, right?  
  
"On what grounds?"  
  
Good. He was being all businesslike about this.  
  
"It was a mistake."  
  
"So, irreconcilable differences?"  
  
"Totally. That's the understatement of the year. Not just the year, the millenium. We are absolutely NOT supposed to be together." Could she stress that strongly enough? Irreconcilable differences basically summed up why a vampire and a Slayer couldn't be married. Especially the un- souled kind. Vampire, that is, not Slayer.  
  
"If you feel so strongly that your marriage was a mistake, why did it happen in the first place?"  
  
That would be a tough question, but she and Willow had worked out an acceptable excuse. It wasn't exactly flattering, but it would hold up better than a do-thy-will spell.  
  
"We were drunk. Someone suggested it and we went along with it."  
  
" 'We' being you and your husband? What is his name?"  
  
"Um," Buffy checked her papers for it. "William Blood Montgomery," she read.  
  
Harmon was confused. "You have to look up your husband's name?"  
  
She shrugged. "I normally call him Spike. Besides, the only reason he's my husband is because I did a VERY STUPID thing."  
  
"How long have you been married?"  
  
"Maybe two weeks?" Buffy hazarded. "I started looking for a way out A.S.A.P."  
  
Harmon nodded. That fit in well with her "we were drunk" story. He proceeded to ask her some relevant questions - Had it been consummated; Was there any risk she was pregnant; What was William's views on her desire for divorce?  
  
"Yes; absolutely not; really complicated."  
  
What did she mean by the last one?  
  
"I don't think Spike's doing back-flips over our marriage. But he thinks it's funny that I'm trying to get a divorce. He'll want to make it as hard as possible. Spike can be a real jack-ass like that."  
  
Interesting. After asking a few more questions, Harmon established that, according to Buffy Summers (she refused to use Montgomery) that she and William had gotten married while under the influence. They had known each other for some time; the bulk of their relationship was antagonistic. Her tone concerning him was a measure of respect mixed with a great deal of loathing. She was vague on their precise association; from what he understood William was the relative of her ex-boyfriend. Ms. Summers wanted her ties with him dissolved as soon as possible; she had begun a relationship with another man prior to her marriage with William and wanted the freedom to continue it.  
  
Harmon had to admire her for her adherence to her moral code - many women would have viewed this as a nuisance and continued the relationship.  
  
Assuring her he would start the proceedings, Harmon finally let the young woman leave. Within a few months she would be a free woman. 


	3. Chapter Three

Author's Note: Thanks to Nina, who beta'd the first two chapters. And thanks to everyone who reviewed: SpIkEs AnGeL, Tobert, Tiffany, tinkerbell42, gyrlfrend, Jennifer, artemis66, Danielle, Kelso, Azrielle, and twisty-treat.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
The Bronze. Spike slouched against a wall, occasionally taking a sip from his beer (American, unfortunately). Before he'd lost his bite, so to speak, he would have been trolling for a meal. Plenty of bubble gum girls happy to follow the sexy guy with an accent into a dark alley. Just pick some girl, smile at her, flirt a bit, and then, have yourself a proper meal. He smiled at the thought, mouth tingling at the memory of all that warm, delicious blood just waiting for him to drink. None of this pig swill. The real stuff, hot and rich and powerful. Slayer blood.  
  
Mmm, Slayer blood. Pity he hadn't gotten a taste while she was under Red's spell (oh but he had - passionate kisses, fangs descending, a tongue slips and is cut, shy smile and a whisper, "go ahead", sweet sweet blood). That taste had gotten him even hornier. And then the motel room -  
  
Lost in his memories, he almost didn't see Buffy come in with a boy. But sure enough, there she was, dancing with a big block of a boy. It was almost amusing watching them. Buffy was twisting to the music, her innate grace evident, obviously caught up in the beat. The brick wall was standing near her, attempting to match her skill and so obviously failing. He finally gave up and slid behind Buffy, curving his arms around her to hold her close as she continued dancing.  
  
Spike growled. It was one thing to watch the wanker's pathetic attempts to dance, but this! What was he thinking, pawing her, touching her? Buffy was HIS! His Slayer. His wife. 'Till death do us part and all that rot. What was she thinking, for that matter? Dancing with a bloke who wasn't her husband. Not just dancing. No, sliding along his body, swaying her hips, doing little shimmies like some cheap whore.  
  
Spike made his way over to Buffy and the idiot, with only one thought in his head, "MINE!"  
  
Halfway there, he stopped. Why did he care what the Slayer did? Who the Slayer did? Some spell makes them get hitched and now it's his business? HELL YES! Be it bond of mortal enemies or matrimony, he was going to stake his claim.  
  
Mind made up, he marched over to confront his wife.  
  
MINE!  
  
***  
  
Buffy leaned against Riley, enjoying the sound of his steady, beating heart. The warmth of his body gave her a nice, comfy feeling. His arms were holding her close - and they were very nice arms. The sweet awkwardness he'd displayed earlier was nice, too. This whole date had been - nice.  
  
She wondered when the other shoe would drop. Where was the demon? The sudden attack that would destroy her tranquil evening? When would he turn out to be a vampire or a demon or a psycho robot?  
  
And why was she hoping that would happen? That SOMETHING would happen? Why was she so BORED?!  
  
Not to self - NEVER wish for something to happen. Spike was striding towards her, a seriously pissed off expression on his face. As a rule, Buffy didn't care if Spike was cranky. But if he and Riley talked, there went her nice normal boyfriend. Somehow "yeah, I'm married," always sent them running.  
  
Okay, quick, Buffy. Plan of action. Get Riley to leave so you can go kick Spike's ass and make him go away.  
  
"Riley, could you get me a drink?" she asked, turning slightly in his arms. Smiling, she added, "All this dancing is making me thirsty."  
  
Riley, sweet guy that he is, grinned, "Sure. What do you want?"  
  
"Um," Spike was almost upon them, "a diet coke?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
Buffy let out a sigh of relief as he went to order her drink. With him safely gone, she turned around to face Spike.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed.  
  
Spike smirked. "Watcher cut me loose. Said I was annoying him." His tone changed. "Who was that?"  
  
"None of your business."  
  
"None of my business? In case you've forgotten, Slayer, we're married. You're dancing like a bitch in heat with another guy. It IS my business."  
  
"I am so not a bitch in heat!" Buffy protested. "Only a perv like you would say that. Not like it matters. In case you've forgotten, bleach brain, it was a SPELL."  
  
"That's your excuse? Oh, it was a spell, I'll just go act like a slut now. But wait, you did that before Red's spell. How many have notches have you racked up on the ole headboard, luv?" Spike looked her over, eyes lingering on all the interesting places, "Have to say, never thought I'd be one of them. Tell me, Slayer, did you give it the poof like that?"  
  
Buffy flushed under his stare and the memories it aroused. The few hours she had spent with Spike had definitely been the most sexually adventurous in her life. Angel and Parker had nothing on Spike in that department. And apparently Spike wasn't unimpressed with his share, either...  
  
Stop it, bad voice. Spike & sex thoughts are to be stopped immediately. Riley will be coming back any minute now, so GET RID OF HIM!  
  
Who? Bad voice couldn't help a last parting shot. Riley or Spike?  
  
Ignoring her bad voice, she snapped, "Get over yourself, Spike. I've already talked to a lawyer. We'll be divorced as soon as he can arrange it."  
  
"Doesn't matter. Until then, you're mine," he growled.  
  
Do all guys have this giant, inner Neanderthal? Even bad voice was pissed at Spike now.  
  
"I am in no way, shape, or form yours, Spike," she hissed back. "You are just a pathetic vampire I'm not staking because it's no fun to kill a neutered loser like you. That's it. Anything else is all in your head."  
  
"So you won't mind if I introduce myself to the git, will you? Make sure he understands he's dating a married woman?"  
  
"Do it and you're dust."  
  
"Wonder how that's going to look, killing your lawfully wedded husband."  
  
"You should be careful, Spikey. One quick thrust and this whole mess will disappear."  
  
Leering, Spike angled his head to get a better view down her top. "That a promise, luv?"  
  
"You bet it is," Buffy snapped back, too caught up in the argument to notice Spike's focus.  
  
"Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty to me." Spike grinned. This was starting to get fun! He wondered how long he could keep baiting her without getting staked.  
  
"You pervert!" Balls, she picked up on the innuendo. And possibly the cleavage peeking. Spike knew he should start retreating, but he couldn't help himself.  
  
"C'mon, Slayer, you know you like it."  
  
Countdown to nose punch begins. Five, four, three, two, o-  
  
"Buffy, is this guy bothering you?" Riley had arrived, ready to play the role of protective boyfriend.  
  
Inwardly, Buffy was pouting. Riley's arrival squelched all current nose punching opportunities. Not to mention, sparring with Spike was always FUN! In a bad, will deny if ever asked, way.  
  
"He's no one important. Let's go." Buffy grabbed Riley's arm and steered him away. Dealing with Spike would have to wait until later.  
  
Spike watched them go, his anger returning with full force at the reappearance of the brick wall. Didn't Buffy see what an utter git that guy was? He looked like a cheap Angel knock off. Big and brawny, probably had the intellect of a flea. The sort that Spike wouldn't bite even if he could, for fear of contracting terminal stupidity.  
  
Just look at them. What was the Slayer doing with a guy like that? Idiot was acting like he was the big strong manly man. Didn't he see she was a warrior? She didn't need to be treated like some china doll; she needed to be given a challenge. She needed someone who would fight her every step of the way and love every minute of it.  
  
Someone like him.  
  
Spike scowled. Where did that thought come from? He hated the Slayer. Really, he did. All he wanted to do was bite into her neck and drink deep. Anything else was just to pass the time until he had one good lay. Er, day. One good day. Until he killed the Slayer and danced on her grave.  
  
So why did he want to rip the git from Buffy's side and take his place? Had to be a territorial thing. Yeah, that's why. Dru goes and cheats on you, so the next time you've got a claim on a girl, you get extra sensitive. Standard vampire territorial instincts. Nothing to do with memories of spell-induced love and being happy just by making her happy and wanting to compose poetry for a sun-gold goddess. Nothing at all.  
  
He wondered how many beers it would take before he believed that.  
  
***  
  
Ever the gentleman, Riley insisted on walking Buffy back to campus. Buffy couldn't decide to be touched by his concern or annoyed by his patronizing attitude, 'a gentleman always takes care of a lady'. Okay, so he wasn't up with the fact she was the Slayer. But did he have to treat her like a complete weakling in need of a big strong man? That was so last century.  
  
After some serious consideration, she decided it was sweet and endearing. Definitely not something that a certain bleached blond would do. Of course, that's because he knows damn well that she didn't need protecting. And why was she comparing Spike to Riley?  
  
"So, uh, the band was good, wasn't it?"  
  
"What?" Buffy hadn't been paying attention. Riley had been talking?  
  
"The band. At the Bronze. Was good."  
  
"Oh, yeah, it was pretty good."  
  
"You go there often?"  
  
"The Bronze? Ever since I moved to Sunnydale. Pretty much the only place worth going to around here."  
  
"Oh, when did you move here?"  
  
Yawn. Could this conversation get more boring? And would it be like this all the way back to the dorm?  
  
Thankfully, a scream ripped through the air. Buffy started to takeoff in that direction, before remembering her companion. Crap, how was she going to dump Riley?  
  
"Uh, Buffy, it's been a nice night but I have to go now. Bye!"  
  
"Riley, I had a great time but I just remembered something I had to do!"  
  
Simultaneously apologizing, the two headed off in different directions.  
  
Once she was out of Riley's sight, Buffy sprinted to where the scream came from. It was one of those countless back alleys of Sunnydale. A young woman was struggling with a drunken frat boy. Looks like yet another vampire trying to have dinner.  
  
Buffy yanked the woman off the frat boy. "Go!" she snapped, sending the boy running. He staggered away as fast as he could, leaving Buffy to face the vampire.  
  
The vamp glared at Buffy, bloodied fangs gleaming in the streetlight. "You stole my meal, Slayer."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and sighed. "And you broke up my date. We can't have everything."  
  
The vampire hissed and lunged at her. Buffy responded by a quick one-two punch, followed by throwing the vamp into the wall. The vamp bounced back, getting in a good hit across the chin. The two battled for a few moments. The vampire wasn't more than a fledgling, but Buffy was in the mood for a good fight. After all, she was still pumped from her interrupted bout with Spike (thanks a lot, Riley).  
  
While she toyed with the vampire, Spike watched from the shadows. He'd abandoned his plans for getting drunk in favor of following the Slayer. Ostensibly to see what she did with Riley. Anyone who suggested it was to look out for her was welcome to jump off a cliff.  
  
It was fun to watch her in action. Ever since he sent that idiot of a vampire after the Slayer all those years ago, he'd enjoyed the skills she displayed in combat. To his experienced eye, it was obvious she was in no trouble at all and was merely letting the battle draw out for the fun of it. Spike always appreciated that she didn't mind a good spot of violence. One of her more attractive traits, that.  
  
However, Buffy found herself getting tired of trading blows. Pulling out her stake, she unceremoniously dusted the vamp. She didn't even bother with one of her trademark quips.  
  
With the vampire dusted, she turned to leave. Then paused. Buffy peered into the shadows; her senses telling her she was being watched. Spike slid back, deeper into the darkness. Seeing no one, she shrugged and continued on her way.  
  
Spike followed her every step of the way.  
  
***  
  
"Sir, this is where we detected the hostile."  
  
"But there's nothing here."  
  
"No bodies. But sensors identify some debris as that of a recently destroyed hostile."  
  
"What could have happened? This isn't the first time we've seen this."  
  
"Unknown, Sir. There may be another HST we have not identified with this MO."  
  
"Possible. I want you to look into that."  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
Agent Riley Finn sighed as the recruit marched off to look into the newest mystery. He had too many issues to juggle. Keeping his identity secret from Buffy. Finding the escaped Hostile 17. And now, determining exactly what else was attacking the HSTs. He would not enjoy reporting this to Walsh. She wanted results, and she wanted them yesterday. 


	4. Interlude

Author's Note: Yay! You give me reviews! This makes for a happy libraflyter ~_^ . Thank you: Kelso, artemis66, Danielle, twisty-treat, Tiff, timeends, Tinkerbell42, Azrielle, & RoboShiflo. And Danielle - yes, there will eventually be Riley bashing. Season 4 Spuffiness - how can there not be?  
  
Interlude  
  
Professor Walsh was talking; telling her to do something. Sit on the desk, maybe? Buffy obeyed. Part of her mind registered that this is all very odd and not at all like class. But in the haze of her dreamself, that didn't matter.  
  
Walsh continued speaking. She motioned Riley to come forward. Buffy hadn't noticed he was there before and smiled. She liked Riley. He returned her smile with that big goofy grin of his. Buffy decided she didn't care what was going on; this was nice.  
  
Riley started saying something about the sun going down. Then he began to kiss her.  
  
The kiss was very nice. It reminded her of a long ago time of playing at love; not really there yet but wishing for the day. When you kissed the boy because he was sweet and thought you were pretty, not because he was the One.  
  
The kiss changed. It was harder now, forceful and passionate. Arms snaked out to pull her close. An overwhelming need filled Buffy, to touch and be touched. She slid off the desk and fully entered his embrace, responding to the kiss. No more youthful wishing. This was it. The One.  
  
She opened her eyes.  
  
Spike stared back at her, one hand tenderly stroking her cheek. She leaned into the palm of his hand, enjoying the gentle gesture. An almost inaudible whisper in the back of her mind wondered where Riley had gone. But her dream self ignored it. Instead, she brought her own hand up to his face. For a few moments, they stood there, caressing each other.  
  
She heard singing off in the distance. Buffy turned around, seeking the singer. As she looked, she sensed Spike behind her. He let her go ahead, but remained protectively by her shoulder.  
  
They walked down a long hall. At the end, there stood a young girl holding a music box. It was she who was singing.  
  
"Can't even shout, can't even cry. The Gentlemen are coming by..."  
  
***  
  
Buffy jerked awake to the sound of Professor Walsh's voice. The real one, not the dream one.  
  
"Man that was an exciting class, huh?" Willow started teasing her best friend. "And the last twenty minutes was a revelation that just laid out everything we need to know for the final. I'd hate to have missed that."  
  
Buffy just laughed and sent up a prayer that Willow was joking. And if she wasn't, that she'd be a super-bestest friend and share notes.  
  
They left the class together, only for Willow to take off after Riley made an appearance. He was teasing her about sleeping in class, too.  
  
"So did I have a guest appearance?" he asked, after she admitted to an intense dream. Obviously, his inner psych major was having a field day. "Maybe even romantically?"  
  
Buffy smiled awkwardly and gave him a non-answer. What was she going to say? 'Yeah, you showed up and we kissed, but then you were replaced by my husband and we REALLY kissed'. And what was up with Spike appearing in her dreams? That was happening way too often for her liking.  
  
Dreams of fighting Spike, kissing Spike, making love with Spike...  
  
"So what are you doing tonight? Buffy? You not awake yet?"  
  
Focus, Buffy! Potential boyfriend may be asking you about potential date! Stop thinking sexy thoughts about your husband! Um, that came out wrong. Stop thinking about evil vampires! Much better.  
  
Unfortunately, Riley's suggested plans did not mesh with the life of a Slayer. And so she went on a major guilt trip for lying to him. Which then brought up the guilt for the a) dreaming about Spike, not Riley and b) being married to Spike and still dating. There was big time guiltage going on. Buffy found it very frustrating.  
  
Buffy went to find Giles. At least some of her dream was Slayerly. If she was lucky, maybe he'd let her kill something.  
  
***  
  
The silence was unnatural. As Spike walked the streets of Sunnydale, all he heard were ambient sounds. Cars. Footsteps. Wind. Glass breaking. Ooh! That one sounded like fun. Nothing like a catastrophe to bring out one's inner rioter.  
  
Spike headed in the direction of the breaking glass. He was much disappointed with the scene in front of him. It was just a bunch of kids throwing rocks into shop windows. The little brats didn't even bother to loot the places. Not that he could blame them. Raiding a women's apparel shop wasn't his idea of a good time, either. Bored, Spike turned away to look for something more fun. Maybe a nice fistfight or robbery.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar blonde head. Almost unwillingly, he was drawn towards her. Ever since their marriage he'd been plagued with scarily soft and fuzzy feelings for the Slayer; since the Bronze he'd wanted to act on them.  
  
She was talking to the git. Okay, so maybe not talking. But they were doing that deep intense stare thing, which was just as bad or worse. He'd seen her do it with Angel before and had found it bloody annoying. Now it didn't just annoy him, it made him angry. The deep stare thing was invariably followed by the emotional embrace - look, there they go!  
  
Spike sincerely wished, at that moment, for the ability to rip the git's throat out. Because the emotional embrace would be followed by the passionate kiss -  
  
Over the top of the Riley's shoulder, Buffy's eyes met Spike's. Spike's stare said quite clearly what he was feeling; Buffy's less so.  
  
Unaware of the ongoing drama, Riley moved to kiss Buffy. She turned her head, his lips hitting her cheek. She gave him an extra hug for luck before slipping out of his embrace.  
  
They parted.  
  
Riley walked away, wondering why Buffy had just rejected him. Not to mention, what was a girl like her doing out on such a dangerous night?  
  
Buffy continued patrolling, wondering why she had stopped Riley from kissing her. More importantly, why did it matter that SPIKE didn't want her to kiss Riley?  
  
Spike trailed after Buffy, as he had done before, wondering why she hadn't kissed the git. And while we're on the subject, why was he still following her?  
  
A/N2: Two scenes that needed writing and had no real connection to the rest of my planned plot. Definition of an interlude, I guess. 


	5. Chapter Four

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews: twisty-treat, Kelso, Ann of Midnight, Chelle, Tiffany, RoboShiflo, Tiff, artemis66, Tobert, Azrielle, and tinkerbell42.  
  
Also a humongous thank you to whoever runs Buffyworld.com. That site is a major help when I need episode info.  
  
This starts at the beginning of Doomed, more or less. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Four  
  
There had to be a law somewhere banning Slayers from uncomplicated lives. Buffy was convinced this was true. There was no other explanation for this.  
  
Riley was one of those commando guys.  
  
Come on! What were the odds that the main demon hunter, the Slayer, would end up dating a member of another demon hunting group, with both parties totally unaware of the other's activities. Normally, she'd say 'snowball's chance in hell'. Huh. This is the Hellmouth, after all.  
  
Riley was just sitting on Willow's bed, still floored from realizing she knew who he was. Buffy allowed herself a few more minutes of sulking over loss of normal boyfriend. Sulk sulk sulk.  
  
"So what are you?"  
  
And now Riley gives his comeback. Buffy stopped sulking.  
  
"The Slayer."  
  
"Who?"  
  
Hey, that's insulting. Demon hunting guy hadn't heard of her? Fledges just out of the grave knew her!  
  
"Y'now, the Slayer. The Chosen One. She who hangs out in cemeteries a lot." Riley was still lost. "The one girl chosen to fight the demons."  
  
Riley was now giving her a strange look. "I've heard some stories about her. Myths, mostly. I thought the Slayer was a demon, if she was real."  
  
"Yup. The Slayer is real. But not a demon," Buffy gave him a big smile, "do I look like a demon to you?"  
  
"I don't know. First you're this cute college girl I'm dating, and now you're some sort of chosen protector? Were you ever going to tell me?"  
  
"I wasn't the only one lying, here. You were supposed to be my Joe Normal boyfriend, not some military soldier guy!"  
  
"My orders said I have to keep my identity secret!"  
  
"So do mine! Well, when I actually took orders, it did. It's not something you exactly go up and announce to somebody!"  
  
"So what will this be then? Sorry, we can't date because we do the same thing?"  
  
Buffy sighed. "I don't know, Riley. You threw me for a loop. Can't we just take a break and figure this out? I like you, I really do. It's just - "  
  
"Fine. You make up your mind, you know where to find me. And Buffy? Don't tell anyone."  
  
"I won't if you won't."  
  
He left. Buffy waited until he was down the hall before she let out a scream of frustration. WHY? Her life was already screwed up enough. This thing about Riley made her mess even messier.  
  
Buffy stomped over to the mini fridge and pulled out a pint of triple chocolate ice cream. Stabbing her spoon into the tub, she pondered her mixed up life.  
  
Take Riley, for example. Prior to any commando guy revelations, she'd seen him as this nice, easygoing guy she could date. Maybe not the future love of her life, but someone to go out and have a good time with. A nice, NORMAL boyfriend. Nothing special, just some no pressure, non- slayerly, fun.  
  
Now he belongs to some military group called the Initiative. What kind of name was the Initiative, anyway, asked the head of the Scooby Gang. Were they good guys? Bad guys? They went after demons, which was good. But the whole capturing and performing experiments part, that wasn't so good.  
  
Buffy had nothing against going after the forces of darkness. But SHE did it straight on and made a clean kill. No neutering of the vampires for her.  
  
Speaking of neutered vampires, we now go into the Spike issue. Buffy ate a big spoonful of ice cream to fortify herself. Even he agreed that their marriage was a joke. Then why oh why did he get so possessive? Like last night. Riley was about to kiss her, and Spike just got this LOOK. She didn't know how to describe it - jealous, angry, resentful, protective, loving?  
  
It was as if Spike wanted to take Riley's place. Maybe that's why she had stopped the kiss, because he cared. Or because she cared. Or they both cared. Or something. And if she did - care - why was she even considering Riley?  
  
More ice cream required. Unfortunately, the phone interrupted her sulk fest.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Giles' voice greeted her on the other end. "You have to come over, Buffy. It's the end of the world."  
  
Again?  
  
***  
  
Bunch of demons wanted to bring about the apocalypse. Didn't they realize that if the world ended, they'd die too? That part always got to Buffy - what made the demon of the week think HE was immune to world endage? Seriously.  
  
Such were Buffy's thoughts as she entered Porter House. When you were on your fourth or fifth apocalypse, you didn't really do Panic Mode. It was more of a Here-We-Go-Again Mode. Um, where did Willow say to look? Her friend had heard about a murder at Porter, apparently with a funky symbol on his chest. Combined with a bunch of ritualistic hoo-ha that Giles kept track of, this meant pre-apocalyptic signs.  
  
Her mission was to find out what the funky symbol looked like. Time to practice her oh-so-wonderful interviewing skills.  
  
" - Whoever killed him must have been a real nut. There were, like, pictures drawn all over him."  
  
"Did you see it?"  
  
"Uh-huh. He died in our room. That's just plain freaky. I mean, what if I'd been there?"  
  
Ah-hah! Witnesses. Buffy bee lined over to talk to the two guys.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Didn't you hear? Bart got himself offed by some sicko," Bart's roomie told her.  
  
His friend nodded and added, "There was this thing on his chest, y'know?"  
  
Bingo! "What did it look like?"  
  
The two guys stared at her. Getting girls using their newfound notoriety sounded cool, but this one was just plain freaky. Of course, it didn't occur to them that girls interested in the friends of dead guys would be freaky. Bart's roomie demanded, "Why do you care?"  
  
"Yeah, what are you, some kind of creepy chick?"  
  
Buffy gave them her best don't mess with me smile. Normally, she'd be polite about this. But she was having a bad day. "Yes, I'm some kind of creepy chick. What. Did. It. Look like?"  
  
Maybe their recent brush with death had revived some brain cells. Bart's roomie shrugged and sketched something on a piece of paper. As soon as he was done, Buffy snatched it out of his hand and marched back out the door.  
  
"Man, that chick's screwy."  
  
"Yeah, but she's hot."  
  
***  
  
"Here ya go, Giles. Courtesy of Demony Symbols 'R Us."  
  
Giles distractedly took the paper from Buffy. She flopped onto the couch, noting how the room had taken on a distinctively Scooby feel. Meaning, bunch of moldy books spread around with donut boxes located at key intervals. Ooh! Donuts. Jelly? Or not. Oh well, maybe after her ice cream binge it was for the best.  
  
"I keep thinking I've seen that somewhere," Buffy remarked as she examined the donut box, looking for a glazed. Cause those are so light, it's not like you're eating REAL food, right?  
  
Giles ignored her. He did know that by ignoring her, he was FORCING her to eat this donut? Mmm, donut.  
  
"Ah HAH!"  
  
Couldn't he have done that BEFORE she'd eaten the donut?  
  
"The sacrifice of three. So those are the items. Buffy, you'll have to hurry on it, they most likely have them already."  
  
"Have what?"  
  
"Blood of the man, we're certain on that, bones of a child are easily gotten, and the Word of Valios. Last one's a bit shaky, have to check on that. 'When combined with the sacrifice of three, the Hellmouth shall be opened and the end shall begin'."  
  
"Just tell me what to kill, Giles."  
  
"Nothing, yet. They can't perform the ritual until midnight. I'd suggest looking for the word of Valios. See if you can get it before they do."  
  
"And that would be where?"  
  
"The museum, maybe. The text is rather vague on exactly what the Word of Valios is, precisely. Try looking for a rare book or something with words. And take the others with you. The more searching, the better."  
  
***  
  
"Would you stop laughing?!"  
  
Buffy couldn't help herself. Spike. In a Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts. This was better than Bozo the Clown.  
  
"Stop it!"  
  
Oh, look, he was trying to give her a scary glower. Sorry, Spikey, try again. Maybe when you aren't wearing a clown costume?  
  
"Buffy, stop laughing at Spike," Willow reproved. "We only brought him 'cause he tried to stake himself."  
  
"Hey, he can't do that! I was planning on taking all his money in divorce court!" Buffy protested, trying to act serious (not). "I had plans for that old car of his. Big, burning, junkyard plans!"  
  
"Hey! The De Soto is a classic!" Spike protested, clown suit forgotten. "You're not touching my baby!"  
  
Xander and Anya just stood there, confused.  
  
"Um, what's this about divorce court?" Xander asked slowly. "'Cause I thought all that marriage stuff was far, far away."  
  
"Spike and I are married," Buffy said cheerfully, "Willow didn't break the spell soon enough. Did you know that under California state law I'm entitled to half his stuff? Hey, Spikey, you got anything good?"  
  
Spike tried his scary glower again. It still wasn't working.  
  
"It is one of the better laws written," Anya agreed. "Men should pay large sums of money to their former wives. I've been called on to curse many a deadbeat ex-husband. In fact, one time I - "  
  
"Whoa! Let's get back to the Spike'n'Buffy marriage deal," Xander interrupted. "Apocalypse aside, Buffy, when were you going to mention this?"  
  
"When I was holding the divorce papers?"  
  
Xander gave her his hurt puppy look.  
  
Anya cocked her head and asked in a politely interested voice, "Have you consummated your relationship yet? That means," she helpfully added, "have you had sex?" Xander was always going on about how she should find things in common with his friends. If they could talk about sex, that would be a common ground, wouldn't it?  
  
Buffy blushed and found her shoes very interesting all of a sudden.  
  
Spike wished he could blush and started staring at the stars.  
  
Willow wondered why Buffy was still speaking to her.  
  
Xander wanted to go to purge bad bad images from his head.  
  
"So you did have sex!" Anya exclaimed gleefully. "Did he give you many orgasms? In my experience, vampires can be very talented lovers."  
  
Buffy seriously wished for the ability to gag Anya.  
  
"So, let's, um, go find that Word of Valios. We have to go, uh, save the world and all that."  
  
Spike nodded vigorously and marched after her. The more he dealt with Anya, the more his respect for the whelp grew. It was a very unpleasant sensation.  
  
***  
  
Turns out the Word of Valios wasn't at the museum. It was actually an old talisman stuck in the back of Giles' junk drawer. Oops. Unfortunately, they didn't figure that out until after Giles had been knocked unconscious. Again.  
  
So while Anya was making sure he didn't die of whatever plagues the knocked unconscious, they were now going to do the stop the apocalypse at the last second method of world saving.  
  
The Scoobies (and Spike) stood in front of the burned out husk of Sunnydale High, the current location of the Hellmouth. Buffy made a face. She'd hoped to never return here. Not exactly a realistic hope, per se, but still. It's the principle of the thing.  
  
"Okay, when we get to the library keep a look out for victims they're keeping alive for the sacrifice. Getting them out is the first priority."  
  
"And what do I do, Slayer?"  
  
"Don't get in the way?"  
  
"Buffy!"  
  
"Sorry, Wills."  
  
They entered the building. Sure enough, in the tattered remains of the library, were three Vahrall demons chanting their hearts out around a fissure in the floor.  
  
"I don't see any sacrifice people," Willow whispered, taking in the scene.  
  
Buffy did her own scan. The room was remarkably bare of hiding places - and of any tied up victims.  
  
"Giles said the spell required a sacrifice. They have to be somewhere. Keep looking."  
  
Without a better course of action clear, Buffy did what she did best. She jumped in and tackled one of the demons. The battle was joined.  
  
Displaying the sort of initiative that stops the apocalypse, Willow took advantage of the distraction and grabbed one demon's bag of bones. Making a face, she threw it to Xander. Xander, already holding a filched bottle of blood, tossed it to Spike.  
  
While Buffy continued whaling on her demon, two things happened. Xander's managed to grab the blood and decided to take a headlong leap into the hole. Spike got tired of being beat up by his opponent and fought back. When he realized there was no pain, he started attacking the Vahrall with an even greater intensity than Buffy. With a roar, Spike sent it flying into the fissure.  
  
"Don't! They ARE the sacrifice!" Willow shouted just as he let go.  
  
Oops. The ground started shaking. Beams, already precarious, began to fall down.  
  
"Get out of here! The building is collapsing!" Buffy shouted, as she continued battling her demon. The bastard just REFUSED to die. She grunted as it got in a few good hits.  
  
Spike staggered to his feet, already moving to help her. Before he could reach her side, however, someone else appeared on the scene.  
  
As the Vahrall prepared to strike Buffy again, he found himself being attacked from behind. Riley stabbed the demon, simultaneously punching its head. With the demon suitably distracted, Buffy was able to administer the necessary snap to break its neck.  
  
It fell to the ground with a thump. Buffy looked up and smiled at her rescuer, all decked out in his commando gear.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Anytime."  
  
Gag! Riley, the git, was one of those soldier boys? She really could pick them, couldn't she? That was one of the wankers who captured him. The reasons for ripping that boy's throat out just grew. Spike could barely restrain the desire to mark his claim. So the boy played at being a warrior. He hoped Buffy could see through that and realize what a loser he was.  
  
Like now. Riley was trying to explain why he was here. Spike wanted to laugh at the stupidity of his excuses. Paintball? Believable only if they were as stupid as he was. Which Spike most definitely was not. He KNEW that Riley was one of those commando guys.  
  
What was the Slayer doing with one, anyway? Those idiots would probably want to cut her up and do experiments on her. Bet they have all sorts of issues with the supernatural. Or 'paranormal phenomenon' in wanker-talk, most likely.  
  
"Don't I know you?"  
  
And the git dares speak to him. 'Yeah, mate, I'm her husband, so bugger off before I kill you!'  
  
Buffy was giving him pleading looks. With puppy eyes and pouting lips. Spike behaved. He always was a sucker for pretty girls (unless they were dinner, of course).  
  
"No, I'm just a friend of Xander's."  
  
Over Riley's shoulder, Buffy gave him a big smile. Spike tried very hard to ignore the warm feeling that spread through him. He resisted the urge to smile back. Since the git was holding her hand, it was quite easy.  
  
Note to self. Convince Slayer to dump soldier boy in a lake, ASAP.  
  
***  
  
Note: Hope you liked the chapter. The next one will have more Spuffiness, I promise. As always, give me feedback! 


	6. Chapter Five

Wow! Majorly big thanks for all your reviews: missypiggyau, Chelle86, kathypg, Anonymous, artemis66, Ape18, Malicia Notcurna, Tiffany, Harm Marie, wolf116, RoboShiflo, Culf, tinkerbell42, twisty-treat, Ann of Midnight, Azrielle, Golum. *Does a Snoopy dance around the room* Thank you!  
  
Oh, and I haven't a clue about the precise way someone gets a divorce, beyond various sitcom episodes. So, if this looks wrong, don't yell at me. I'm too lazy to look it up and find out it doesn't fit nicely in my story.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
"Mr. Harmon, your four o'clock is here."  
  
Ed looked up upon hearing his secretary's voice. His four o'clock? Ah, yes, Ms. Buffy Summers and her husband William Montgomery. The divorce case.  
  
Actually, theirs was the most interesting case he'd seen in a long time (but still didn't equal the man who insisted his wife was a succubus). Ms. Summers insisted she and her husband had been drunk and foolishly went along with a friend's suggestion. However, the justice of peace who married them, Danielle Addams, was an old friend of his. According to her, neither one had shown any signs of inebriation or any other kind of substance abuse.  
  
"The Montgomery couple? I'd never seen two people so in love before. Are you sure you understood Buffy correctly? If those two were on anything, they did the best job hiding it I'd ever seen. Closest thing would be high on love," were her exact words.  
  
Very different from Buffy's "we were drunk and hate each other" version.  
  
"Mr. Harmon?" his secretary spoke again, interrupting his train of thought.  
  
"Send them in, Gracie," Ed ordered.  
  
Buffy was the first to enter. Though enter was far too mild a word. Stomped or thundered was far more appropriate. Her eyes were narrowed, her face flushed, and she was muttering dire things under her breath.  
  
Wonderful. His client was ticked off.  
  
Behind her was the young man Ed assumed was her husband. This one didn't storm in. Instead, he slid in, prowled about a bit like a panther before sitting down next to Buffy. More restrained, certainly, but Ed noted the tell-tale tense expression of a man at the end of his rope.  
  
This was shaping up to be a swell session.  
  
"Good afternoon, Ms. Summers. Is this your husband? Mr. William Montgomery?"  
  
"Yeah, that's me," the man answered. Ed tried not to show his distaste for him. William Montgomery was the very picture of a punk. Peroxided hair, leather coat, and sneering expression. Ed didn't blame Buffy for wanting a divorce. William screamed trouble with a capital T.  
  
"Now that you're here, Mr. Montgomery, we can start to discuss - "  
  
"Spike."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Spike. Is my name. William Montgomery's for poofters."  
  
Ed sincerely hoped 'Spike' wouldn't be like this the entire meeting.  
  
"Spike, then. We need to discuss Ms. Summers' plans for divorce. Now, I am given to understand that you were both drunk - "  
  
"So that's what she's saying. What, luv," Spike directed his attention to his wife, "you couldn't fess up to the truth?"  
  
"That WAS the truth, Spike. Wasn't it?" Buffy gave him the Evil Eye.  
  
"If you say so. Had to admit, was interested in how you got out of it."  
  
"Well, Spike, I was obviously not in my right mind. Otherwise, I wouldn't be married to you, now would I?" she snapped back.  
  
"Weren't saying so that night," he pointed out, mockingly.  
  
"That night doesn't count and you know it."  
  
"Shame, Slayer. Ruining my memories, you are."  
  
Slayer? Come again?  
  
"I told you not to call me that. And if I had my way, you wouldn't even remember this."  
  
"So you'd be married to me and then go commit adultery? No, wait, you're already doing that."  
  
"Don't bring Riley into this."  
  
Spike opened his mouth to retort. Ed took advantage of that brief lull in the battle; forging ahead with the real purpose for this meeting.  
  
"It's obvious that you both have issues with this marriage. What I want, Spike, is to start drawing up the paperwork necessary for a divorce. Do you have a lawyer?"  
  
"Uh, no."  
  
"Okay, then. I will advise you to get one, young man. While it might make it easier for me otherwise, I don't want the conflict of interest. Now, Ms. Summers, can you tell me what your terms for divorce are."  
  
Buffy shrugged. "I get one. It's not like Spike has anything I could want, or that there's kids or anything."  
  
"For preliminary purposes only, Spike, what are your terms?"  
  
Spike smirked. "I don't want one. Quite happy with the way things are, actually."  
  
"Hypothetically speaking, what would they be?"  
  
Spike actually seemed to consider the question. "Don't know. She stop seeing the git, for one thing."  
  
"Riley is NOT a git!"  
  
"Really, luv? He's an idiot and you know it. Wonder what Peaches would think of you choosing a loser like that."  
  
"Wonder what he would think about you being here. Maybe I should give him a call, let him come and down and help me with my problems. I'm sure we could come up with a nice, dusty, solution," Buffy responded, with a too-sweet smile.  
  
Was dusty some kind of new slang word? Ed knew he was behind the times, but dusty?  
  
"Thought you had issues with that one."  
  
"Way you're acting, I'm kind of not seeing the bad."  
  
"You actually think I'm going to buckle under and play nice?"  
  
"So, Ms. Summers has issues with that criteria. If I may suggest a compromise, maybe she stops dating until the divorce is final?" Ed tried to get this meeting back on track.  
  
"But what am I going to tell Riley? Hey, can't date until I get divorced?"  
  
"Ms. Summers, this man doesn't know you're married?"  
  
"What was I going to say, hi, friend cast a spell and I married this bleach head?"  
  
"Spell?"  
  
Buffy quickly backpedaled. "Uh, a spell. With words. Words that were suggesting type words. Said while we were drunk. No magic spell casting. Just words. And drunk. Don't forget the drunk part."  
  
"Great cover-up."  
  
"Shut up, Spike."  
  
Ed started fantasizing about the bottle of bourbon in the file cabinet. Deciding it would be unprofessional to start imbibing, he attempted to speak again.  
  
"Spike, could you tell me your reasons for objecting to a divorce? This will help me understand the situation."  
  
"It pisses her off. And there are certain...side benefits."  
  
"In your dreams, bleach for brains."  
  
"And what lovely dreams they are. You been having any?"  
  
"Only nightmares."  
  
"Bet they're very exciting nightmares."  
  
"Only in the adrenaline flowing, got to escape kind of way."  
  
"Escape from what? The Big Bad?"  
  
And the conversation steers in an alarmingly R-rated direction.  
  
"C'mon, Spike, you've never been the Big Bad."  
  
"When was the last time you checked?"  
  
"Haven't seen you up and about doing - "  
  
"If you wanted to see me up, all you had to do was ask."  
  
"Pervert."  
  
In the course of their argument, the two had moved closer until they were right into each other's faces. Buffy glared at Spike and vice versa, with only inches in between.  
  
Ed felt like he had entered the set of a romantic comedy. The kind his wife dragged him to, where the leads hated each other but were always flirting at the same time. It was interesting that their bickering had transformed into an exchange of innuendoes. Mostly on Spike's part, but Buffy definitely fed the flames.  
  
"Who are you calling a pervert? I'm not the one macking on the brick wall. When you're a married woman."  
  
"Riley is a perfectly nice guy, as opposed to some people. And I have not 'macked' on him!"  
  
"Then what did you call that kiss? You were all touchy feely with him."  
  
"He pecked me on the cheek. And how many times do I have to say, why the hell do you care?!"  
  
"You're mine."  
  
"With an attitude like that, no wonder you lost Drusilla."  
  
"Leave her out of this. Or maybe I can ask why my grandsire went and dumped you?"  
  
Ed shook himself from his day dreaming. "Grandsire?"  
  
"Like grandfather. Because he's, uh, so stodgy and no fun," Spike answered awkwardly.  
  
Buffy smirked. Look who had to do the quick cover up now. She stuck out her tongue.  
  
Spike stuck his out and curled it, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Buffy stuck hers back in.  
  
Ed wondered why he even bothered trying to run this meeting. He decided to give it one last go, then pray Spike's lawyer was a reasonable sort of man.  
  
"Both of you have some serious issues to work through. I understand that Spike is most sensitive about your relationship with this Riley fellow. Ms. Summers, I suggest you reconsider your position on that. Spike, despite your objections to a divorce, I will be able to help Ms. Summers obtain one. I suggest that you become more accommodating and make this easier. The more difficult this is, the more unpleasant it will be for all parties concerned. With that said, I feel we've accomplished a great deal this meeting and look forward to speaking with your lawyer, Spike. Good day."  
  
The two left. Finally. The succubus case was walk in the park in comparison. Ed reached into his filing cabinet, pulled out the bourbon, and chugged down a good portion. He needed it.  
  
***  
  
Buffy and Spike marched down an alley, heading to a sewer opening.  
  
"Why are you following me? You don't have to take the sun-free express."  
  
"I'm mad at you."  
  
"Then you should be heading in the other direction."  
  
"I can't yell at you if I do that."  
  
"You're loud enough, you could."  
  
"Why do you have to make this so difficult?"  
  
"I came, didn't I?"  
  
"You sat down and made that meeting as hard as possible. Would it kill you to be just a little polite?"  
  
"I'm already dead, luv."  
  
"You know what I meant."  
  
"Speaking of that, would it kill YOU to stop seeing Soldier Boy?"  
  
"Once again, not your problem."  
  
"Once again, we're married, of course my problem."  
  
"Here you go again with the 'mine' thing."  
  
Spike stopped walking and faced her. "Until you manage to get your sodding paperwork through, You. Are. Mine. You may be in denial, it may have just been Red's spell, but I am NOT going to let you forget that. We got married. Deal."  
  
"I am dealing. You're the one with issues. We're mortal enemies, Spike. Nothing else."  
  
"Still makes you mine. Actually, the mortal enemies thing makes you mine before the wedding."  
  
"What is it with you and being all possessive?!"  
  
"Vampire here. It's what we do."  
  
"Don't remind me. It would be soo easy just to shove a stake right through your heart."  
  
"Then why don't you, Slayer? Why don't you finish me off? You know you want to."  
  
"Wanting is different from doing, Spike. And I can't kill you. You're helpless, defenseless, unable to fight back."  
  
"That's why?" Spike started laughing. "So that's your excuse."  
  
"What? It's true."  
  
"It's lame. C'mon, Slayer, I've seen you work. You'll off a vampire when he's down. Only you haven't done that to me. Wonder why that is?"  
  
"I already told you."  
  
"You know, I don't think that's why. I think - "  
  
"You think what? That the reason I haven't staked you is because I have some deep hidden burning attraction to you? Get over yourself."  
  
"Denial's not just a river in Egypt."  
  
"Repeat after me. Get. Over. Yourself."  
  
"Repeat after me. You. Want. Me."  
  
Buffy looked at him incredulously. "The only delusional one here is you, Spike."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really really."  
  
Spike cocked his head to the side. "Care to test that?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Care to test that?" Spike repeated. "Are you ready to prove that you are not in any way, shape, or form attracted to me?"  
  
A challenge. No way could she back down. Buffy looked him in the eye. "Of course."  
  
Spike moved quickly before she could change her mind. He swooped in and kissed her. Hard. On the lips.  
  
Logically, Buffy shouldn't have been too surprised. How else was he going to prove she was attracted to him? But she still gasped in shock (or invitation) and the kiss deepened as he slid his tongue in.  
  
After a few moments, Buffy started to return it with full force. She pushed back against him eagerly, hands sliding up to caress his back and pull his head closer. He responded by grabbing her by the waist and dragging her against his body.  
  
Mmm. Dimly, Buffy realized that this wasn't supposed to happen this way. That she was supposed to put up at least a token resistance. She tried to pull away and break off the kiss. Spike merely tightened his grip and started stroking the small of her back. Buffy stopped even pretending to resist.  
  
Her only thought was to maximize contact and keep kissing Spike. She stood up on her toes, her body sliding along his. Huh. Guess all she did have to do was ask to see him up. Spike's hands slid down to clasp her buttocks and bring her closer. Their movements were growing increasingly heated and needy, reminiscent of that long ago spell. Only this time there was no excuse.  
  
No excuse. Kissing Spike. Kissing a VAMPIRE!  
  
Buffy's conscience kicked in. She pulled herself away, almost tripping as she escaped Spike's embrace. He just stood there, arms open to take her back in them, a hungry look on his face as he gasped for unnecessary air.  
  
Buffy knew she looked no different. Her skin felt hot and tight and sensitive and her lips felt swollen and every inch of her body just wanted to give in and go back into his arms.  
  
"Buffy - "  
  
He never called her Buffy. And he never used that voice, either. It was tender and desperate and -  
  
"Don't," Buffy pleaded, "just don't."  
  
She turned tail and ran. Spike watched her go. What was going on between them? He was a vampire. Teasing and taunting the Slayer was acceptable, but why did he feel this way? Why?  
  
Buffy ran through the streets back to her dorm, confused. Riley was supposed to be the new guy in her life. Spike was supposed to be an inconvenience. Then why had she just kissed Spike with more intensity than she'd ever contemplated kissing Riley? Why?  
  
***  
  
Note: I hope you like this chapter. Please tell me what you thought of the kissing scene. It's the first one I've ever written. Thanks! 


	7. Chapter Six

I give 50 million brownie points to those who reviewed: Chelle86, artemis66, bite_me, BaKaBaBi, Ultrawoman, darklover, RoboShiflo, Anonymous, Alex92, adamsjo75, ms trick, pyra, spikealicious, wolf116, sslb, zanthinegirl, Harm Marie, twisty-treat, Tiffany, tinkerbell42, Ann of Midnight, Azrielle, and missypiggyau.  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Buffy ran all the way back to her dorm. In her turbulent state, the physical exertion was soothing. Solid. Something to focus on, instead of how Spike had just kissed her. No. Not just kiss. It was more than that. Kisses were sweet and airy. This was deeper, more intense. It was as if he had tried to claim her. And she had claimed him back.  
  
Buffy, moral voice announced, you have no business claiming vampires. Vampires are evil. We do not like vampires. Spike is a vampire, therefore he is icky. And non-kissable.  
  
(He is to kissable!)  
  
Be quiet, bad voice, I'm talking. Moral voice continued. Spike may be very handsome (totally hot! interjected bad voice) and you may have experienced temporary insanity, (temporary sanity!), but there will be no more repeats of kissing. Especially intense, drawn out, mouthwatering, perfectly wonderful...  
  
Damn. Buffy scowled as she stomped up to her dorm room. Even her moral voice was drooling over Spike kisses now. What was she going to do now?  
  
Find Spike and kiss him again! Followed by kissing, and some more kissing, and then -  
  
NO MORE KISSING!  
  
Buffy jerked the door open, almost pulling it off its hinges. Oh why oh couldn't her life be simple? She's not asking for much - just the occasional, basic apocalypse, maybe some doppelgangers thrown in on the side. A demon or two. Definitely not a vampire husband who was starting to look like a frighteningly good idea.  
  
Avoid Spike. Easiest way to solve this problem. Avoidance. Lawyers only, get a divorce, then drive off into the sunset with Riley.  
  
Emotions resolved and/or denied, Buffy entered her room.  
  
"Hi, Buffy. How'd your meeting go?" Willow asked, looking up from her textbook, neatly highlighting the important words. Blue for vocab, yellow for concepts, orange for people. Uh oh, where's her orange?  
  
Buffy reached down and picked up the orange highlighter. Handing it to Willow, she sighed. "Mr. Harmon tried to get us to talk, but Spike and I kept arguing. He was being an even bigger jerk than normal. Spike, not Harmon."  
  
"Mm-hmm."  
  
"He won't even consider a divorce unless I call it quits with Riley. Kept on going on and on about how I was his until the divorce and how Riley was a git and that meant I shouldn't see other guys. I mean, where does he get off? I was with Riley waay before any stupid spell screwed up my life."  
  
"And once again, I say sorry. But about the Riley thing," Willow paused, treading carefully, "maybe you shouldn't see him until you're all not with the marriage thing and - "  
  
"WHAT?! No. No way am I giving to Spike. He's just being his usual stupid, idiotic, annoying self. We're doing this MY way." Buffy punctuated each word with a punch to her pillow.  
  
"Ookay, sensing this is an issue here." Willow held up her hands in surrender, "I was just saying. You don't have to do that."  
  
"Damn right." Buffy gave the pillow one last punch. It exploded. White fluffy cotton rained down over her face and shoulders. "Oops."  
  
Fourth pillow this month. Buffy jumped up, sending stuffing everywhere.  
  
"I'm going to the Bronze. With Riley. And if Spike doesn't like it, he can go stake himself," she announced.  
  
"Way to be empowered. But it works better without the fluffy stuffing all over."  
  
Buffy looked down at herself.  
  
"I'll go after I clean up."  
  
***  
  
Who did that bitch think she is, anyway? Spike asked himself, downing a shot of whiskey. After their little back alley make-out session, he'd decided the best course of action was to get drunk. Very drunk. With the help of some nancy boy who screamed in terror of Spike's game-face and dropped his wallet before running like a girl, he was well on his way to alcohol induced oblivion.  
  
A self righteous little Slayer, that's who. Thinkin' she's so great, just cause he couldn't bite her. Going on and on about how he's got to jump to her tune. When he damn well has the right to demand she kick the Riley git onto the curb. Bitch acted like it was HIS fault the meeting with the lawyer screwed up. He was being the reasonable one! She's the one who makes this all difficult.  
  
Spike tossed back another shot and signaled the bartender for some more whiskey. All she had to figure out was that they could have a lot more fun doing a more passionate kind of fighting. Like in the alley. That was better than anything under the spell's influence. Well, except for the part where she took him and -  
  
And she was here with the Riley git. Again. What, were they glued at the hip or something? Stupid Soldier Boy. Stupid Slayer for letting him slobber over her like that. Stupid Spike for letting it get to him.  
  
Slayer wants to act like an idiot? Fine. Go ahead. Not like he cares. Spike nodded firmly, sealing the vow with yet another shot.  
  
As he enjoyed the sensation of the burning liquid, a husky voice whispered into his ear, "Come here often?"  
  
Spike turned his head, taking in this new girl. Dresses for a night on the town, skimpy little top barely covering an impressive chest; dark hair artfully messy and curling around her face.  
  
"Depends. You here a lot?"  
  
She smiled and sat down next to him. "Most nights. Always looking for some company."  
  
"Happy to oblige." Spike gave her his most charming smile. He might not be able to bite, his wife might hate his guts, but he could still pick up a date. "Wanna dance?"  
  
***  
  
Buffy swayed to the music in Riley's arms, ignoring the guilt that threatened to overwhelm her. It's one thing when SPIKE tells you to do thing, it's another when Willow agrees. And according to Willow, now was the time to come clean with Riley. Dump him or tell him he has to wait.  
  
"Hey, Buffy, you coming to the party at Lowell?"  
  
"Hunh?"  
  
"The party. At Lowell House. My dorm. In two days."  
  
"Yeah," big smile for the human boyfriend, "of course!"  
  
They swayed a bit more. Buffy tuned out Riley's babble about some Initiative thing. His idea of an 'exciting mission' was incredibly boring.  
  
Was that Spike over there? Dancing? Buffy craned her neck over Riley's shoulder to see. It was Spike! With some brunette slut. Practically dry humping him in the middle of the dance floor. Cheap hussy.  
  
Spike caught her eye and smirked. Screw you, Slayer. Two can play at this game.  
  
"What are you looking at?" Riley turned his head to see what had his girlfriend so entranced. "Wait a second, isn't that your friend Xander's friend? Do you want to go over and say hi?"  
  
"No! No, that's okay."  
  
Riley shrugged and pulled her closer for the slow song just starting. "Good. I don't want to share you right now."  
  
He leaned in to kiss her. Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy saw Spike making out with The Hussy. She surged onto her tip-toes to meet his lips.  
  
Riley was ecstatic. Patience had finally paid off! Buffy was kissing him!  
  
Buffy opened her mouth and sought to deepen the kiss. Unfortunately, she found it exceedingly awkward to do that on her tippy-toes. Riley's arms weren't nearly as supportive as Spike's had been. She sank back down. Riley followed, bending slightly.  
  
Okay. A little less awkward angle. Buffy tried to throw herself into the passion of the kiss. Okay, self, join in the passion. What passion? He's slobbering a little. And you got more excited when Jimmy kissed you in eighth grade.  
  
Buffy pulled away. Reluctantly, Riley let go.  
  
"That, that was good."  
  
Buffy gave him a little smile, "Uh-huh. Listen, I'd hate to cut our date short, but I have to go patrolling."  
  
"I'll come with you," Riley insisted. "Give me a second to get my equipment."  
  
"That's okay. This, uh, this patrol route is best done alone. Silencey and stealthy type thing. I'll be fine."  
  
"You sure? You shouldn't go out without backup."  
  
"Riley, Slayers have been patrolling without backup for centuries. I'll be fine. Good night!"  
  
Buffy hurried to the door, pausing only long enough to give The Hussy the evil eye. Spike deserved a tramp like that. Hopefully she carries some disease that infects horny vampires.  
  
Studiedly ignoring the irony of HER being jealous of HIM, Buffy went out to patrol.  
  
***  
  
"You know, hot stuff, we could get to know each other better in a more quiet environment," Gina?Tina? cooed into Spike's ear. She interlaced their fingers and lazily stroked his left hand. "Don't you agree?"  
  
Still pissed about Buffy's little "incident" with the git, Spike was more than ready to say yes. "Whatever you say, baby."  
  
Gina/Tina giggled. "I like that." Her thumb grazed his ring. "Ooh, pretty. Where'd you get this?"  
  
Spike looked down. Crap, he'd forgotten to take off his wedding ring. Hopefully, Gina/Tina would be as ditzy as she looked. "No where important."  
  
"Looks like a wedding ring."  
  
"Um..."  
  
Gina/Tina's eyes narrowed. "You divorced?"  
  
"Well, uh, actually, uh, that's, uh...soon," Spike fumbled, too drunk to lie properly. "OW!"  
  
Gina/Tina had kicked him! "Bastard! I don't go around sleeping with married men. What kind of girl do you think I am!"  
  
"Hey, Tina, you came onto me - "  
  
"My name is MINA!"  
  
Ouch. Spike rubbed his cheek where she had slapped him. Tonight was not shaping up to be a good night.  
  
"Asshole!" Mina flounced off. What was it about her and scumbags like that? Why couldn't she meet a decent, single guy?  
  
Spike just groaned. He couldn't even successfully cheat on Buffy? How pathetic was that.  
  
He did the only thing left to do. Order another shot and hope to get sloshed. And ignore the still sober part that whispered, Mina would have been a poor substitute for the Slayer. 


	8. Chapter Seven

Many thanks for reviewing: darklover, Shannon, Chelle86, JadeCountess, RoboShiflo, Tiffany, twisty-treat, zanthinegirl, wolf116, Ultrawoman, ms trick, LuckyStarz, Onyx and S, and tinkerbell42.  
  
Also, Buffyworld.com is the source of any lines borrowed from Where the Wild Things Are. Which I do. C'mon, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Yippee. Party at Lowell. Bring out the beer.  
  
Buffy sat on the corner of a couch, occasionally sipping from her too warm Diet Coke. No beer for this co-ed. That led to Neanderthal badness. Next to her, Riley was babbling about something. Undoubtedly important. To him.  
  
"Riley, I'm going to get a refill. Mine got all watery and warm."  
  
"Need help finding the cooler?"  
  
"No. I'll just follow the drinks."  
  
Riley continued speaking as if she hadn't just answered his question. "It's actually tucked out of the way. The non-beer drinks, that is. C'mon, I'll show you."  
  
He took her by the arm and started pulling her to this 'hidden' cooler. Buffy rolled her eyes and let him. If he wanted to be the big manly man showing her where she got her drink ten minutes ago, go him. One more nail in the coffin of their non-relationship.  
  
Cause after that kiss two nights ago, this wasn't going anywhere.  
  
Buffy's lips quirked up, remembering the lip mashing slobberfest that Riley was so proud of. And compared it to Spike's bone melting kisses and caresses. Mmm, lips of Spike.  
  
Whoa. What was that? Buffy felt her breathing accelerate and her body became all flushed. That was weird. Suddenly, she was feeling excited. Very excited.  
  
Buffy distractedly set her drink down. Okay, where did the hot flash come from?  
  
Riley was having a similar reaction. He'd just been walking along, and now he was definitely feeling the burn.  
  
Buffy leaned against the wall, trying to process. The wall didn't help. Instead, her mind grew even more foggy. Her brain seemed stuck on one scene - the infamous motel room. Buffy reached up to loosen her shirt a little in an effort to breathe. She slid her hands down her side, remembering past caresses. Memories of cool, cool hands soothing and loving came to her. Man, she needed them right now.  
  
Someone else's hands replaced hers. They were too big, too warm. But the cold ones weren't here. These would do in a pinch.  
  
"Let's go upstairs," Riley's voice whispered in her ear. It was the wrong voice, but in Buffy's dazed state, any one would do. She followed.  
  
***  
  
Spike scowled. He was broke. Again. Only one way to fix that - pick some pathetic passer-by and scare them into giving him money.  
  
Hey there, up ahead. Nice enough girl walking. Easy pickings.  
  
"GRRAWW!"  
  
Spike hurled himself out of the alley into the girl's path. Unfortunately, by the time he got there he realized it was Anya.  
  
Anya's only reaction was to scream a little and jump backwards. Otherwise, she just looked annoyed.  
  
"Oh, it's you," he grumbled.  
  
"Spike! What are you doing? You made me yell really high," Anya scolded.  
  
Spike tried to see if he could squeeze any money out of her. "Hey! Yeah, I did. I scared you. Gimme money."  
  
"I'm not paying you for scaring me," Anya announced.  
  
"You're not paying me. I'm robbing you," he explained, doubting that this new approach would work. His dignity would be totally shot with her from now on.  
  
"Oh, well now that's just ludicrous. You can't hurt me because you've got that chip in your brain. Also, I like my money the way it is... when it's mine," she stated.  
  
Damn. She had to bring that up. "But I did scare you, right?" Spike asked, feeling like that guy in Dru's favorite movie. The one with the wizard and the dog. His existence was officially pathetic, now. He was bonding with characters from children's movies.  
  
"I experienced heightened adrenaline levels when you growled," Anya reassured him. "Does that make you feel better?"  
  
Unfortunately, it did. Spike resisted the urge to pout.  
  
"I am on my way to Lowell House," Anya continued talking. "I plan to flirt with many handsome college boys and therefore make Xander jealous. Hopefully, he will understand we cannot just go without having sex two nights in a row and we will no longer be breaking up."  
  
Sometimes, Spike wondered exactly how Anya's mind worked. But he didn't wonder very hard. That was the path to true insanity.  
  
"Do you want to come with me?" she asked, finally finishing her speech. "Buffy will be there."  
  
Spike snorted. "Why should I care if the Slayer's there?"  
  
"Because she's your wife."  
  
"So?"  
  
"And because you are attracted to her. Maybe even in love," Anya cocked her head to the side, studying him intently. "Definitely in lust."  
  
"I'm not in anything with the Slayer," Spike snapped. "Vampires don't get the hots for Slayers." He proceeded to storm off.  
  
"Buffy's at the party with Riley. Xander says that they are quote unquote, together," Anya called to his back.  
  
Spike paused.  
  
"Think they have free beer?"  
  
"It's a frat party," Anya huffed, "of course there's free beer."  
  
"Sounds like fun, then. Where to?"  
  
"This way." Anya gestured vaguely in the direction she'd been headed in.  
  
As they walked, Spike added, "This has nothing to do with Buffy."  
  
"Of course. Do you want my aid in separating her from the overly large and somewhat annoying Riley so you can go have sex with her?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Really? Because it seems to me that you want to go have orgasms with Buffy, and are unable to do so. I just want to help."  
  
"Please don't."  
  
"Ex-demons have to stick together."  
  
"I'm not an ex-demon! Still a vampire, here."  
  
"Neutered, former, what's the difference."  
  
Spike almost wished to be walking with Harmony instead. Almost. Even Anya was better than Harmony's incessant inane chatter. But it was a close contest.  
  
***  
  
Spike took a long pull from his beer. It was a particularly watery and cheap brand, but what could you expect from Americans? None of them had a clue what real beer was.  
  
Not long after their arrival, Anya had found Xander, yelled at Xander, then gone off to prove her womanhood. Or something. Spike had gotten a good laugh watching the whelp try to prove his manliness as well. The boy's flirting techniques were atrocious.  
  
Since that had quickly grown boring, Spike had ever so casually started looking for Buffy. Not that he was interested or anything. Just wanted to make sure he knew where she was. It was best for a vamp to know where his enemies were, right? Absolutely nothing to do with a desire to talk to her, romance her, sneak her upstairs..  
  
Huh. What was that? Spike frowned. He had a normal vampire's libido (meaning, if he wasn't thinking about killing, he was thinking about sex), but where did that little rush come from?  
  
Then he noticed the seriously lust crazy behavior of everyone else in the room. People were kissing, moaning, and in general acting like rabbits in heat. Just look at that group playing Spin the Bottle. Acting all charged up just from touching the thing.  
  
"BANG!"  
  
The bottle exploded. And with it, any semblance of order in the room.  
  
Spiny thorns were sprouting up all over the place. Building was shaking like no tomorrow. People were running about, screaming in panic.  
  
Well, this party's starting to liven up after all, Spike thought.  
  
But that thought was quickly disbanded when he became the next target. Vines reached out and tried to entangle him. He cursed as the thorns bit down, yanked them off and sprinted to the door.  
  
Outside, the bulk of the party goers ran for safety. The only ones left in front of the house, were, of course, the Scoobies. Do-gooders like that couldn't leave the scene of the crime. Oh no, they had to stay and fix it.  
  
Spike took a quick head count. Whelp, Demon Girl, Red, and Red's girlfriend (c'mon, everyone knew, even if they didn't say it). No Slayer.  
  
No Slayer! Was she trapped inside still?  
  
"We have to go back in there," Willow announced. Her voice was a little uncertain as she faced the impenetrable, vine-covered door.  
  
Ever the pragmatic, Anya asked, "Why?"  
  
"Because Buffy and Riley are still trapped in there!" Xander retorted.  
  
She was trapped? With the git? Spike started assessing the door for weak points.  
  
"So?" Anya demanded. "She's the Slayer, he's a big soldier boy, what do they need you for?"  
  
"Anya, look around! There's ghosts and shaking, and people are going all Felicity with their hair... We're fresh out of superpeople, and somebody's gotta go back in there." Xander took a deep breath. "Now who's with me?"  
  
"I am," Spike announced.  
  
Everyone stared.  
  
"My wife is in there!" Spike pointed out.  
  
Anya smirked. She loved it when she was right.  
  
"I thought you hated Buffy," Xander remarked.  
  
Spike ignored him and tried the door. He managed a few steps before being kicked out by an invisible force. Ow.  
  
"Definitely Watcher Time."  
  
The Scoobies went to get more experienced supernatural aid.  
  
"You coming, Spike?" Willow asked as they left.  
  
Spike didn't answer. He just continued studying the house's defenses.  
  
"He's trying to protect his mate," Anya whispered loudly. "When vampires get like that, they don't do reason very well."  
  
***  
  
After multiple tries and many bruises, and possibly a cracked rib, Spike was navigating the stairs of Lowell House. For every step he took, whatever was haunting this place would send him back two.  
  
But he persevered. Buffy was somewhere upstairs, his senses told him. And if the first floor was any indication, she was in big trouble.  
  
Spike tightened his grip on the banister. A vine shot out and pierced the palm of his hand, going directly through. He ripped the offending plant away. More vines reached out to entangle his feet. He ripped those away, too. His hands were shredded and bleeding copiously.  
  
Slayer, you had better appreciate this, Spike grumbled as he fought against a sudden hurricane grade wind that tried to force him back down the stairs. Finally, vampire strength overcame it and he reached the top of the steps.  
  
There were sounds coming from the end of the hallway. Spike forged ahead, picking his way through vines and rubble and flying debris. Whatever was doing this didn't know vampires, thankfully. Or that splinter would have hit his heart and not his side.  
  
Finally Spike reached the door. And cursed himself for not bringing a machete. He started to tear at it with his bare hands. Behind it, he could hear Buffy. And someone else. Riley?! Were they - ?  
  
The knob was free now. He pulled with all his strength. The door ripped from its hinges and collapsed beside him.  
  
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!"  
  
Buffy. The git. In bed. TOGETHER.  
  
Buffy looked up blearily. "Can't you knock?" she asked. Then reality hit. She was naked. In a bed. With Riley. While Spike stood less than ten feet away. Shit. This had better be a nightmare.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Riley snapped, pulling on his pants.  
  
"Looking for my wife!" Spike snarled. He marched over and started to pull Buffy away. Buffy obeyed mutely, still in shock. What had just happened? She silently accepted Spike's duster, wrapping it around herself. Her own clothes were nowhere to be found.  
  
"Buffy, what the hell is going on?" he demanded.  
  
Buffy shook her head, trying to clear her mind. "I, uh, something happened."  
  
"Really? Ya think so?" Spike could barely keep his temper under control. "Thought you were trapped by some nasty ghosty when you were getting it on with this idiot!"  
  
"Listen, Spike - "  
  
"I ripped my way through hell knows what to find you. The whole damn house attacked me! All for this?" Spike growled, waving his hand to indicate the scene.  
  
"It's not like we have anything!" Buffy defended herself.  
  
"A marriage isn't enough?"  
  
"It isn't real!"  
  
"What about the kiss, luv? What was that to you? Do you go around kissing every guy like that?"  
  
"YOU kissed ME."  
  
"And you kissed back. Made ME think YOU actually realized that WE had something."  
  
Riley glanced from Buffy to Spike and back again. "Listen, mister, I don't care who you are, but Buffy's MY girlfriend. So why don't you take a hike. You're obviously not wanted."  
  
Spike sneered briefly before continuing his conversation with Buffy.  
  
"I fought through hell knows what to find you! Dammit, Slayer," Spike's voice rose to a crescendo, "I was even worried about you!"  
  
"You were worried?" Buffy asked, wonderingly. This was a strange turn of events. Spike seriously cared about her? She noticed how battered and beat up he looked. Whatever he had faced, it had been nasty. Very nasty. All this while she'd been -  
  
"Whoa, wait a second, Slayer?" Riley blinked for a moment, then jumped up, shouting, "You're Hostile 17! Buffy, how the hell do you know the prisoner?"  
  
"Listen mate, I'm nobody's prisoner."  
  
"Well, Riley, that's a bit of a long story."  
  
"Make it short," Riley snapped. It wasn't every day you finally scored with your girlfriend, had a guy barge in claiming he was her husband, only to find out said guy was a Priority One escaped hostile.  
  
"His name is Spike. Remember, the one I said I was engaged to? And um, we're married."  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"She said, we're married. As in lawfully wedded husband and wife. The bonds of matrimony. 'Till death do us part."  
  
"Buffy, how could you? You not only let that - thing - live, but you're married to it? What kind of Slayer are you?"  
  
"A damn good one."  
  
"Spike, this is my problem. Riley, it's a lot more complicated than that. Spike even helps us sometimes."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure he 'helps' you. I can't believe I just had sex with you! You actually let that disgusting dead thing touch you?" Riley couldn't believe that this woman not only allowed vampires to live, but she would know them? Have a relationship with them?  
  
Buffy stared at her former (yes, definitely former, they were so over now) boyfriend. Before she could open her mouth to yell at him, Spike reacted.  
  
By punching Riley in the jaw. The larger man hit the floor with a moan.  
  
"AAGGHH!"  
  
"That's what you get for hitting humans."  
  
"He, ow, was insulting you!"  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes as she cautiously picked her way to the door. "He just found out a bunch of crap that he should've been told before. He can be excused for some freakoutedness."  
  
"Then why aren't you going to go back and fuss over Soldier Boy?"  
  
"Excusable doesn't mean I'm not still pissed at him." Buffy reached the main part of Lowell House. "What happened?"  
  
"Some sort of haunt, I guess. Your Scoobies probably have the full story by now."  
  
Buffy timidly walked down the splintered steps. "You went through this? For a moment there, Spike, you impressed me."  
  
Spike moved behind her and picked her up, lifting her easily over the debris. "Don't worry, I'm sure it won't last long."  
  
Buffy fidgeted for a second, feeling a little embarrassed in Spike's arms. But it was preferable to walking barefoot through broken glass and splinters. "Thanks."  
  
"I'm still mad about you and the git."  
  
Buffy paused. "I'm sorry, for what it's worth."  
  
Spike didn't answer, but simply continued walking. Even though she was covered in the git's scent, even though he still felt betrayed, for the first time, he felt as though whatever they shared could be something more. She had apologized.  
  
The question was, did he want to follow where this could lead? 


	9. Chapter Eight

I'm past the 100 review mark! Whoopee! Mega thanks to: timeends, Purest Evil, artemis66, ms trick, LuckyStarz, Ann of Midnight, Alex92, Kari Mouke, Azrielle, tinkerbell42, Tiffany, Vash-chan aka Makoto Almasy, Chelle86, aakos, Ultrawoman, Summersfan, unidentifiedfanauthor, RoboShiflo, and Onyx and S.  
  
You guys inspire me to continue writing.  
  
The stupid Riley line is courtesy of RoboShiflo. Hiya RoboShiflo! Any enjoyment gained from said long belongs to her ^_^.  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Buffy lay curled up under her blankets, covered from head to toe in her yummy sushi pajamas. She and Spike had miraculously not run into the Scoobies on the way back to her dorm. The rest of the guys must still have been playing research party, not knowing the ghost thing has been stopped. Whatever. She had called Giles and told him she was okay.  
  
She rubbed her cheek against the flannel sheet, thinking about how awkward it had been leaving Lowell House. Barring one misguided attempt to walk barefoot on cold grass, she had let Spike carry her from Lowell to the steps of her dorm. He'd tried to bring her upstairs, but the night guard hadn't let him. School rules or something.  
  
Buffy wrinkled her nose. The guard's obvious opinion of them, her dressed only in Spike's jacket and Spike, well, being Spike, had almost gotten the guard punched. She had a feeling that Spike's lingering headache was all that stopped him.  
  
That was weird, how white knight protectory Spike had gotten lately. First with Riley, then with the night guard.  
  
Ugh. Riley. Why the hell had she had sex with him? Buffy knew there was no way in her right mind she would have done the whacky with him. And now she had one more complication in her screwed up life.  
  
And she hadn't even screwed the right one.  
  
"Buffy! Giles said you got out of the haunted house," Willow burst into the room, "but what really happened to you? We got all scared when the house kicked us out and Spike insisted on staying and then we found out what was going on with the house and - "  
  
"Slow down, Wills. I don't really know what happened, exactly," Buffy blushed, "but Spike got me out okay." She blushed some more, with guilty feelings all around for the sex with Riley part of the story. And why was she feeling guilty? It's not like she owed Spike anything, right?  
  
"You don't?" Willow flopped onto her bed. "See, Lowell used to be a house for runaways. And the lady who ran it, she was all ooh, you're evil little monsters and I will purify you. So she really screwed them up and made them all wonky, especially sexually, cause she had this whole thing about sex = bad. And now when their ghosty type selves start a-haunting, they make everybody do the whacky."  
  
"Oh. That's, that's good."  
  
Willow gave her a huh? expression.  
  
"Well, that means the ghosts could have done a possessing type thing, right? And then certain people cannot be held totally responsible for their actions. And that would be a really, really good thing."  
  
Now Willow was giving her the I know you have a secret so spill expression.  
  
"And that would be a good thing because?"  
  
"Because Spike found me having sex with Riley," Buffy blurted out.  
  
"Is the Spike part or the Riley part the bad?"  
  
"Do I haveta tell the truth?" she whined.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"The Riley part," Buffy admitted, staring intently at the covers. "That was so not an experience I want to repeat. And now Spike's all growly about it. I mean, I know he didn't like me dating Riley, but I wasn't actually ever, you know, going do anything."  
  
Just two days ago Buffy had been saying she was with Riley 100% and Spike was the inconvenience. And now it was the other way around?  
  
"And I can't believe I saw anything in Riley in the first place. Our non magicky kiss? Totally not cool. Big with the slobber, low on the passion. And I didn't even get all magicked up over him, I was thinking of Spike and it's just that he wasn't around and Riley was - "  
  
Buffy paused, realizing what she just said. She buried her head into her pillow. "I'm a mess."  
  
Willow had to agree. Her love life was nothing compared to Buffy's. At least she hadn't just admitted to having the hots for a formal mortal enemy who was currently her husband.  
  
Take that, General Hospital!  
  
***  
  
Spike sat on his garbage dump scrounged couch in his crypt, drinking from his flask as he mulled over the night's events. Pity the chip had prevented him from showing that sanctimonious night guard not to judge other people like that. Particularly when the other people were him and Buffy.  
  
Stupid night guard, not letting him carry Buffy to her room. Stupid chip not letting Spike punch the night guard. Stupid Riley, being, uh...stupid Riley!  
  
The night guard was nothing comparing to what happened with that, that idiotic Soldier Boy. That really stuck in his craw. Seeing her, entwined with that loser, had been painful. And far too reminiscent of Dru with the Chaos Demon. And the Fungus Demon. And the -  
  
Spike threw his whiskey across the room. Then he ran to pick it up before it spilled all over the floor.  
  
Having safely retrieved the alcohol, he sat back down. He wished he knew what the hell the Slayer had been thinking. That there had been magic involved, there was no doubt. Spike had over a century under his belt, he knew magic when he saw it.  
  
The question was, how much had been Buffy betraying him and how much had been the spell?  
  
Before their kiss, Spike would have dismissed such questions. His bizarre connection with the Slayer was only for annoying her and not for anything else. Or so he had told himself.  
  
Then came the argument at the lawyer's, and the kiss. The kiss which said, loud and clear, that he wasn't alone in this attraction.  
  
And now he wanted the rest of it. Spike nodded firmly as he downed the whiskey. Buffy had chosen him over Soldier Boy, hadn't she? In a way. Sort of. Well, she hadn't made too big a fuss when he'd punched the guy. And she had left with him and had let him carry her.  
  
That counted for something, didn't it?  
  
It had to. It had to mean she and the git were over, that she was willing to give him a chance. Otherwise, Spike thought glumly as he took another swig, he would be even a bigger loser than the aforementioned git.  
  
Lost in his musings (not brooding mind you, but musings, there is a very big difference), he didn't here Anya come in.  
  
That didn't last long.  
  
"I am glad to see you are recovering from your ordeal," a too chipper voice interrupted his thoughts. "To take on a haunted house would most likely be painful." Anya sat on the tomb opposite him. "That is why I only do research. It is boring, but less likely to be harmful."  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"To make sure you're okay."  
  
"I'm fine. Go away."  
  
Silly Spike. Like Anya would listen. "I'm staying. Xander says that humans are supposed to be concerned about people they perceive as friends, meaning those they have something in common with. As a fellow ex- demon, I care about you."  
  
Spike dragged his chair around so it didn't face Anya. Sometimes he was up to dealing with her. On the heels of finding Buffy with Soldier Boy, he was not.  
  
Anya didn't take the hint. "Do you want to know what was happening at Lowell?"  
  
"Some sort of haunting. Bunch of ghosties woken up and taking it out on the living."  
  
"No. Well, in a way. A very repressed woman tried to raise equally repressed children there. They left emotional memories behind and that's what caused the haunting. Or at least that's what Giles said." Anya nodded firmly. "This confirms why sexual repression is inherently evil, as I'm always telling Xander."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So, the haunts were making everyone be not repressed."  
  
Spike growled. So the git had been what Buffy had wanted.  
  
Anya cocked her head. A millennia of dealing with the romantically betrayed had taught her what that meant.  
  
"Did Buffy have sex with someone not you under the influence of the ghosts?"  
  
He didn't answer. She took it as a yes.  
  
"Just because she had sex while sexually unrepressed doesn't mean she does not reciprocate your feelings," Anya tried, ever so awkwardly, to comfort Spike. "It could be she was aroused and initiated intercourse with the first willing male." Pause. "It was a male, right?"  
  
"It was the git."  
  
"Riley?"  
  
Spike nodded.  
  
Well, that made things far more complicated. Buffy already had a relationship with Riley. Anya wrinkled her nose. She disliked the Initiative agent. His organization did not sound favorable for the continued health of an ex-demon like herself.  
  
"Once you broke the ghosts' hold, did Buffy remain with him?"  
  
"No." Spike jumped up and started pacing the room, agitated. "She left with me. Course, she was right pissed at the boy, with good reason. Soldier Boy got all insulting about our relationship. Practically called her a whore."  
  
He kicked the chair, ignoring that he'd called Buffy that the first time he'd seen her dancing with the git. The chair broke. Oops. "I showed him. Took him down with one punch, the wanker."  
  
"And Buffy was okay with this?"  
  
Spike laughed. "Slayer fussed a bit, but not to much. Think I beat her to the punch, so to speak. You know?"  
  
Anya did indeed know. "It does not sound like she prefers Riley over you," she added helpfully.  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
Huh. Guess he's not the only one who thinks he might have a chance. Maybe he'll even be able to convince the Slayer to forget about Soldier Boy once and for all.  
  
***  
  
"Can you believe it?!" Riley shouted as he paced the debriefing room. Forrest and Graham sat calmly in their chair, waiting for their friend to finish his rant.  
  
"You're telling me that it was all some kind of sub-terrestrial phenomenon?"  
  
"For the last time, Riley, whatever went on between you and Buffy was influenced by some kind of energy force that existed in Lowell House. That's what our resident brains say about the little fiasco that happened upstairs."  
  
"You know what? I'm not even surprised. Figures that it would take something like that to get close to Buffy. She's been pushing me away for weeks." Riley kicked his chair. The chair, bolted down, didn't budge. "Ever since she found out I was in the Initiative and I found out she's the Slayer. Knew she had issues about that."  
  
"You mean there's a civilian who knows about our operations?" Graham spoke up worriedly. "She needs to be contained."  
  
"Buffy's not like that," Riley sighed, "She's something called a Slayer."  
  
"That's only children's stories for little demons," Forrest corrected. "No such animal in real life."  
  
"Not true. Buffy's the Slayer, I'm sure of that."  
  
"With paranormal abilities?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Forrest leaned back, a contemplative look on his face.  
  
"But that's not the worst of it. Turns out, she's married!"  
  
The other two men shot up, shocked by this revelation.  
  
"Not only is she married, her husband is Hostile 17!"  
  
"But the legends say the Slayer kills HSTs," Graham pointed out.  
  
"Apparently this one doesn't," Riley griped. "He came in on us and acted like he was the injured party! Can you believe it? And Buffy took his side." He slammed his fist into the wall. "I don't know what I ever saw in that girl. What kind of person has a relationship with a hostile?"  
  
***  
  
Fascinating. Walsh watched the screen showing the debriefing room intently. Buffy Summers was the Slayer. Not only that, but a Slayer married to a sub-terrestrial? This could prove to be most useful information. Most useful indeed. 


	10. Interlude

Thanks to everyone who reviewed: twisty-treat, Alex92, timeends, Reb1, darklover, Ape18, Atterb, CeriCherry, Tobert, artemis66, ms trick, BaKaBaBi, Chelle86, Tiffany, UltraWoman, Kari Mouke, swords-n-spikes, Vash- chan aka Makoto Almasy, tinkerbell42, RoboShiflo, Ann of Midnight, and Onyx and S.  
  
Interlude  
  
"Ed! Michelle! Fancy meeting you here!"  
  
Ed Harmon looked up from his table in the country club to see Danielle Addams headed their way. His wife waved her over, saying, "Danielle, how long has it been?"  
  
"A month, at least," the justice of peace said as she pulled over free chair. "We haven't had a good sit down chat since dinner at the Barnes's. Last time we talked was on a business call with Ed. How did that go, anyway?"  
  
Ed did a little sigh/laugh, thinking about the tangled issue of Ms. Summers and her divorce. "It's going. Not the most difficult case I've handled, but still..." he trailed off, making vague gestures to indicate frustration.  
  
"You know, Michelle, when Ed told me this couple I'd married were trying to get divorced, he practically knocked my socks off! In all my years, I've never seen a sweeter or more devoted pair. And he says they can barely stand to be in the same room together!"  
  
Michelle Harmon laughed. "Believe me, Danielle, from what Ed tells me, that's putting it politely."  
  
"That true?"  
  
"Yes, it is. Are you sure they weren't pulling your leg that night?" Ed asked.  
  
"I've been a judge for twenty-five years and I know liars when I see them. Those two weren't. Oh, I wouldn't put it past that young man, Spike, to spin a tale or two - he was quite the smooth talking charmer - but nothing like that."  
  
"They sure changed their tune by the time they got to my office. Hissing and spitting, at some times I thought they'd go for each other's throats!"  
  
"Oh, Ed, that's not all you thought would happen," Michelle corrected, giving her husband a little push on the shoulder. Turning to Danielle, she said, "He told me that if they didn't kill each other, the room was about combust from the tension."  
  
"Really? That's interesting. Why, last I saw them I felt like it was high time they got a room, if you know what I mean."  
  
"I do, indeed. I remember when Ed and I first started dating we could scarcely keep our hands off each other." She smiled, remembering. "Honey, do you recall that one time, at your parents - "  
  
Ed flushed at the memory. "I think my mother's jaw didn't snap shut for a week. We were rather randy teens. But this couple is a different story."  
  
"What are their names again?"  
  
"Buffy Summers and," Ed frowned slightly, "Spike. What kind of name is Spike?"  
  
"Sounds like quite the bad boy," Michelle giggled, her mind conjuring images a la James Dean.  
  
"Oh, he was. If I was younger, I'd have been jealous of Ms. Buffy Summers. You should have seen his eyes, Michelle. And the rest of the package wasn't bad either."  
  
"And a charmer too?"  
  
"Yes. Complete with the accent."  
  
Michelle and Danielle giggled, sounding like teenage girls discussing a crush.  
  
"Ladies!" Ed chided, feeling decidedly left out of the conversation.  
  
"We're just having a bit of girl talk, dear."  
  
"Humph. Well, in my opinion, Ms. Summers doesn't want anything to do with him. I've only met them once, but she sure proved how much they couldn't stand each other."  
  
The two women exchanged knowing grins.  
  
"That true?" Danielle asked.  
  
"Absolutely. Spent the entire time bickering, getting into the other's face. Spike kept using crude innuendoes, insulting her. I'm surprised she ever talked to him at all."  
  
"And you think this means they hate each other?" Michelle asked, giving her friend a wink.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"I say that our young couple just had a lover's quarrel and were taking it out on you. I wouldn't be surprised if you get an order any day now from Ms. Summers to cancel divorce proceedings."  
  
"Oh really?"  
  
"Yes. In fact, care to make a wager?"  
  
Ed eyed his wife and her friend for a second before agreeing. "Sure."  
  
"I bet that Ms. Summers cancels the divorce and remains married to her husband."  
  
"That's highly unlikely," Ed scoffed, "if she didn't want a divorce, why'd she come to me? I'm going to win. What are the terms?"  
  
"If you win, I'll take you to one of those Lakers' games. When I win, you'll take me to the ballet."  
  
"When you win? So confident are we?" he teased.  
  
"I am. You with me on this, Danielle?"  
  
"Ed, all I can say is, which do you like better - Swan Lake or Sleeping Beauty?"  
  
Ed leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. Women could be such romantics at times. When someone can't stand a person, it's dislike, pure and simple.  
  
Michelle and Danielle just smirked. Men could be so obtuse at times. When that much passion is flying about a room, it's love, pure and simple.  
  
***  
  
Sorry, I know, not big with the Spuffy. Don't worry, next chapter we'll see some real action. 


	11. Chapter Nine

Thanks for reviewing: twisty-treat, artemis66, Chelle86, RoboShiflo, darklover, SNangel, Summersfan, Kari Mouke, ms trick, Tiffany, JnR 4eva, and Tobert.  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
It was a beautiful night. The moon was bright, the skies were clear, and the air was just crisp enough to make the blood pump a little but faster.  
  
Buffy loved patrolling on nights like this. You can't beat the exhilaration of the hunt while gliding through silent cemeteries, sensitive the most minute movement in the distance. On nights like this, she enjoyed being the Slayer.  
  
And man did she need it. On the heels of the Lowell House fiasco last night, Buffy had a strong urge to kill something. Was that an unhealthy way to deal with problems?  
  
She paused, considering the question. Nah. Evil things need killing, and if she finds it therapeutic, well, that's just a big plus in the Slayer column.  
  
Minor moral quandary resolved, Buffy continued her patrol.  
  
"Hello, Dearly Departed Alice Vincent," she read off the tombstone, before turning her eyes to look at the newly risen fledgling, "wake up on the wrong side of the coffin today?"  
  
The vampire snarled and leaped forward. However, her foot was still stuck in the ground and she tripped, falling flat on her face. As she lay there, struggling to rise, Buffy crouched beside her, debating to stake now or later.  
  
"No good punk teen," snapped Dearly Departed Alice, "can't you help an old woman when she's down?"  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and pulled her up. Alice Vincent stood there a moment, dusted herself off, checked her hair, muttered, "I knew my daughter would bury me in plaid, I just knew it," then charged Buffy.  
  
Buffy stepped to the side easily. "I have to agree, plaid is definitely not your thing," she commiserated, "I mean, what happened to the classy black dress?" Buffy dodged another clumsy attack. "Though I don't think black's your color either. Personally, I'd say you were a summer."  
  
"Could you just be a good girl and stand still?" Alice lunged and tripped again. "Damn hip replacement."  
  
"Though I can't tell what would suit your complexion better, blue or green. What kind of foundation do you use?"  
  
"Mary Kay, Ivory 200," she paused, "and would you stop nattering and let me kill you?"  
  
"Sorry, doesn't work that way, Alice," Buffy staked her without moving from her spot. "Welcome to Wonderland."  
  
The vampire did that little pause-while-being-dusted thing before collapsing to the ground in ashes. Buffy shrugged and pocketed the stake. That was a lame quip, but with a name like Alice she couldn't resist.  
  
Whistling "A Very Merry Un-Birthday", Buffy continued patrolling. And then stopped at the sound of a highly unwanted familiar voice.  
  
"Now that was a pathetic fight, luv," Spike said as he emerged from the trees.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Were you following me?"  
  
"Contrary to popular opinion, the world does NOT revolve around you. This is a graveyard, remember? I live in one, you know."  
  
"Yes, you live in one across town."  
  
Spike ducked his head. Oops. She wasn't supposed to remember that. Deciding that any back tracking would make him look even stupider, he forged ahead. "Slayer, we need to talk."  
  
"About what?"  
  
Spike gave her his patented you-know-what-I'm-talking-about look. "About everything."  
  
Buffy leaned against the now doubly departed Alice's headstone. "Spike, I know you think we have some kind of relationship, but - "  
  
She trailed off as he just LOOKED at her. Like he could see right through her and knew she was being all avoidy and was willing to wait around until she stopped being all avoidy. She flushed and looked away. "It's just that.."  
  
He was beside her now, pulling her into his arms. "It's just what? You can't deny something's going on. Something confusing, maybe, but ignoring it won't make it go away."  
  
"Seems like a good start to me," she muttered.  
  
"Do you really believe that? Listen, would it be so bad if we tried to see if there was anything there? We're married, luv. Why can't you give it a chance?" he whispered into her ear.  
  
So tempting. Buffy relaxed and leaned back into him. Mmm, nice. For a moment she could pretend that they were just two lovers trying to fix a misunderstanding. That she was no different than the girls down her hall back at the dorm. They cuddled for a moment, as Spike murmured promises about what they could do. Slowly his lips trailed from her ear down her jaw line and tickled her throat.  
  
Her throat. Her neck, exposed. Exposed to Spike. To a vampire. Buffy yanked herself from his arms. She wasn't like the girls down the hall. And he wasn't just some cute college boy.  
  
"We can't."  
  
"Why the hell not?" Spike demanded. And it had been going so well, too.  
  
"Vampire, Slayer. Slayer, Vampire. Do I need to draw a diagram?"  
  
"Depends what they're doing in the picture."  
  
"Ugh, no. Get your mind out of the gutter. Spike, we can't be together. Maybe if this was some alternate reality where we're not, you know, mortal enemies, but it's not."  
  
"We are together. We're married, Mrs. William Montgomery."  
  
"That was a spell," she insisted. "A spell caused by a somewhat drunk, petulant friend who was in a bad mood. That isn't a relationship, that's an accident."  
  
"Then why did we say we were in love?" Spike challenged. "Anya tells me Willow's spell only made us get married. There was nothing in it about love."  
  
"Marriage equals love, they go together. And what were you doing talking to Anya?"  
  
Spike smirked. Was that jealousy he detected? "She thinks I'm a fellow former demon and that we ought to stick together."  
  
"Former demon. Nice way of saying you're currently neutered."  
  
Spike tried not to snarl at that crack. Instead, he gave her a little leer. "We both know I'm not neutered." Buffy turned red and stared at the ground. "And we're getting off track. People don't have to be in love to get married. Hell, in my day that was almost unheard of."  
  
"What are you getting at?"  
  
"Maybe Red's little spell made us admit to something already there."  
  
"Sorry, but I think I'd know if I, ick, actually loved you."  
  
Now that hurt. "You might if you gave it a shot. But you're too uptight to even give it a chance, aren't you?"  
  
"It was a spell, Spike. Stop reading into it. That's only going to lead to badness."  
  
"But you were happy, weren't you? I mean, not just surface happy but the real kind."  
  
Buffy didn't answer. In fact, she started walking away.  
  
"Because I know I was." Spike winced as that came out. That's the ticket. Sound like William the Bloody Awful Poet. And he did so well with Cecily.  
  
Buffy stopped. Huh. Maybe the pathetic poet left inside was on to something. Who knew? Encouraged, he continued talking.  
  
"And spells aside, why did you kiss me? Glare daggers at any girl I flirt with? Let me punch Riley? More importantly, why are you still listening to me?"  
  
Buffy didn't respond for a moment. Spike was worried that she was just considering the best way to make him a truly neutered vampire. But in the end, all she said was, "You're a vampire."  
  
"And you're the Slayer. Have any more excuses?"  
  
"It's not an excuse. It's a reason."  
  
"That's not good enough."  
  
"It'll have to be." She started walking again.  
  
"All I'm asking for is a chance, Buffy. Not a commitment. Just give whatever we have a chance. If it turns out you're right and this is the biggest mistake of the century, then I'll go along with the divorce and make no fuss about it." Spike hated himself for the almost pleading tone in his voice. He wasn't sure if it was love he felt for her, but he damn well knew he wasn't going to let her go without a fight. Vampires don't give up claims that easy.  
  
Buffy stared at her shoes. Toes are a bit scuffed, probably should clean them a little, she thought almost giddily. In another part of her mind, bad brain whispered, Spike called you Buffy. He almost never does that. And he did that in a really sweet and tender voice. And for once, moral voice and logic voice were in agreement.  
  
"I'll think about it."  
  
With that, she finally exited the scene.  
  
Spike ran his hand through his hair, trying to figure out if he won this bout, lost, or tied. On the other hand, this probably worked better than Anya's original suggestion. For some reason he didn't think a speech about interlocking bodies and matching parts, followed by 'please remove your clothing now' was the way to Buffy's heart. That would have definitely gotten him staked for sure.  
  
Unfortunately, Anya was his only source on the inner workings of the female mind at the moment. For some reason, he doubted Drusilla's idea of a good gift was the way to woo Buffy. Hopefully Anya had some better ideas than a doll holding the still warm heart of the shop keeper.  
  
At least Buffy had said maybe. That gave him more leeway than an outright no, right? With that thought, Spike went off to find an ex- vengeance demon for some lonely hearts help. 


	12. Chapter Ten

Thanks for reviewing: Ape, ider, Chelle86, ms trick, artemis66, RoboShiflo, UltraWoman, Alex92, lexi, Atterb, Vash-chan aka Makoto Almasy, tinkerbell42, darklover, Kari Mouke, Tobert, Tiffany, and Alonna.  
  
Hah! Finally finished this chapter. I even have the rest of the story plotted out. Hope this is long enough for you ^_^.  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
Joyce was cleaning the casserole dish with the news turned on in the other room, the volume high. She wondered why she bothered cooking big meals when it was just her. She usually ended up throwing the last two servings away because they went bad. It might be a good time to start looking into those frozen dinners for one she saw in the supermarket.  
  
" - in local news, authorities have determined that the recent rash of animal attacks were due to a rabid coyote. Animal Control will capture it any day now, they assure - "  
  
She smiled. A few years ago, she would have fussed a bit and wondered about getting a rabies shot. These days, she knew better. In Sunnydale terms, 'rabid coyote' meant 'vampire'. Though this was the first time Animal Control had gotten involved. Probably just a new addendum to the standard newscast, all for increasing the level of denial enjoyed by her neighbors.  
  
Joyce put the dish away. Okay, not all her neighbors. Mr. Gaiden from two houses down was part An''kl demon. He came over for coffee occasionally and tried to convince her to come join him and his buddies for poker. She always refused. Gambling for kittens just sounded wrong, no matter how good the company was.  
  
Dishes done and kitchen clean (relatively), she settled down to watch some TV.  
  
"In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups..."  
  
***  
  
Detective Lenny Briscoe was interrogating the suspect. The suspect looked like he was about to crack any second now. Joyce leaned in closer, the better to hear, as the big plot twist emerged when -  
  
"Mommy!" Buffy shouted upon entering the house. Spotting her mother in the living room, she bounded over to sit next to her. "Mommy, I need help."  
  
Joyce sighed and cast her eyes to the sky for a moment as she turned off the TV. Of course, the only thing that could bring her baby home was a Mom-class problem. Hell, she had done that in college.  
  
Without missing a beat, she stretched her arm around Buffy and pulled her close. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"What kind of everything?" Joyce raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Is this a Slayer everything or a Buffy everything?"  
  
It had better be a Buffy everything. There were parenting books on those. But no matter how many times she checked the shelves at Barnes & Noble, there weren't any on being the mother of the Chosen One.  
  
"An Everything everything."  
  
"Oh." She tried on her I-am-the-wise-mother-who-knows-all look. It had worked for *her* mother, hadn't it? "Tell me about it."  
  
Joyce noticed Buffy started avoiding her eyes and finding the wall very interesting. If there was one thing her daughter excelled at, besides killing things of course, it was avoiding the issue. It didn't really matter what the issue was; Buffy could always be counted on to deny its existence.  
  
"Are you pregnant?" she opted for the shock value question, inwardly praying that it was wrong. Joyce thought she had done very well dealing with her daughter's calling. She wasn't ready to be a grandmother, as well.  
  
"NO!" Buffy protested. "Where'd you get that idea? No pregnancy here. No sirree. Uh-uh."  
  
"Then what is it?"  
  
Buffy pouted and scowled all together at once. "Big messy confusing long story that's kind of embarrassing and I should have told you before but didn't and - "  
  
"Buffy, I survived learning you were the Slayer. I survived learning that you died - "  
  
"That was only for a minute."  
  
" - and I survived learning that you had sex. Honey, just explain the problem to me and then I can help."  
  
"ImarriedSpike."  
  
Joyce blinked. Not what she was expecting.  
  
"When did this happen?"  
  
"Maybe two months ago?"  
  
Joyce's mind whirled. "And you didn't tell me? Are you living with him? When did he come back here? Who did the service? Why didn't you invite me?"  
  
Buffy stared at her mother. This was not the reaction she had been expecting. She'd been expecting an I-can't-believe-you-did-this lecture, leading into a conversation where her mother told her the best way to get rid of Spike once and for all. Instead, her mom seemed more upset about not being informed about the wedding and wanting details.  
  
She jumped off the couch and started to pace.  
  
"It's not the married part that's the problem. Willow did a spell and we got married and I'm getting a divorce but that's not the problem either. Well, in a way it is because Spike doesn't want a divorce and he's acting all romanticky about it and you know, Slayer/Vampire equals bad and I don't know what to do and why are you smiling like that?"  
  
Joyce quickly tried to hide her smile. Okay, so she wished she had been told about the marriage earlier. And Spike wasn't exactly her first choice (all right, given the list at the moment he was, but she'd been hoping for some more entries). But she couldn't help feeling a hint of satisfaction that her daughter was in something that could approach a stable relationship eventually. With some work, of course.  
  
"Slow down and start from the top."  
  
Buffy took a deep breath and spilled everything. From meeting Riley to the chip to Willow's spell to Spike's oddly possessive attitude to the Lowell House incident and finally to Spike's plea for a chance.  
  
" - and I don't know what to do, Mom," she finished. "He's making everything all confusing and complicated."  
  
Her daughter never did anything halfway, did she? Joyce sighed as she tried to sort out the onslaught of information. In a calm voice, she asked, "Well, Buffy, what do you want to do about this?"  
  
Buffy whined and stuck her face in the couch cushion. "That's just the thing. I don't know what I want."  
  
That much was obvious.  
  
"It sounds like Spike likes you. Do you like him back?"  
  
"This isn't high school, Mom! Hello, mortal enemies here. Hell, he tried to kill me only a month or so before we got married!"  
  
"You're avoiding the question."  
  
Buffy slouched in her seat. "Sometimes I do. When he's not being a really big jerk or all evil or something."  
  
"Mm-hmm."  
  
She continued talking, "I mean, it's not like he's full time evil like a lot of vampires, right? And he can be nice when he wants to be. Willow says he was super supportive when she was being all depressed about Oz leaving. Of course," Buffy reconsidered, "he was trying to bite her at the time."  
  
Joyce made no comment. She sat there silently, waiting for her daughter to work this out.  
  
"But that's just Spike being, you know, Spike." Buffy worried her lip for a moment. "He did say he'd lay off if I proved to him that we so didn't work in a married way. So if I give in and it all goes to hell in a handbasket (in a not literal sense) then I can just say I told you so and he'll go away."  
  
Feeling far less confused and much more resolved, Buffy bounded up off the couch. "Thanks for talking to me, Mom."  
  
Joyce's lips quirked up. She hadn't actually done much of the talking - only listened to Buffy's ranting. But that's what mothers are for. Listening.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To ask Spike out on a date and prove how wrong he is!"  
  
Joyce leaned back into the couch as she watched her daughter leave the house. You'd think after nineteen years she'd be used to how Buffy's mind worked.  
  
Well, there was nothing much to do but turn on the TV and offer the mismatched couple her best wishes. Buffy could do worse. Okay, maybe not much worse from a maternal viewpoint, but at least he wasn't a complete loser. And Joyce knew what a loser looked like. After all, she had married one.  
  
***  
  
After leaving her mom's house, Buffy headed to Spike's crypt. Her plan was to burst in, tell him she was willing to date him, watch said date collapse in disaster, and go home with all freaky Spike feelings gone and start checking out the cute guy down the hall.  
  
When she reached his crypt, Buffy stood in front of his door for several minutes. To enter or not to enter, that is the question. If she went in, that could lead to all around badness. But if she didn't, she'd be a big fat scaredy-cat.  
  
You know, when you get down to it, scaredy-cats know what they're doing.  
  
"Make up your mind, Slayer! I haven't got all day!"  
  
Forgot about that vamp sense thing. Spike knew she was here.  
  
Well, there was no hiding now. Buffy gave the crypt door a push. Being a heavy door it didn't budge. She gave it a harder push. It slid open a little, then got stuck. She pushed again. Nothing. Frustrated, Buffy kicked the door. Hard.  
  
It flew open and cracked on the opposite wall. Jagged door pieces made a dusty pile on the ground. Oops.  
  
"What was that for?" Spike demanded, getting up from his seat on his sarcophagus. He waved his hand, trying to clear the disturbed dust and dirt. Through it all, he could see the outline of Buffy, standing in the doorway with an embarrassed look on her face. "You smashed my damn door!"  
  
"You should have oiled the hinges or something! It got stuck!"  
  
"I got it open just fine!"  
  
"And then you shut it too tight."  
  
"You're saying the door that YOU broke is now my fault?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"But you're the one who kicked it!"  
  
"Well - " Buffy paused. They were not getting off on the right start. "Okay, I broke your damn door. Happy?"  
  
"My door's still broken."  
  
"Here's an idea. Get a real house. An apartment, a straight - "  
  
"A what?"  
  
"Funny British word for an apartment."  
  
"That's a flat, luv," Spike sighed. Anya told him to be patient with Buffy's faults and not judge, otherwise he was being a 'vengeance worthy example of masculinity'. And Anya, he had no doubt, was fully capable of performing vengeance for wronged women if so moved.  
  
"Flat, straight, still makes no sense."  
  
"Like your mind, Slayer." Hey, arguing is an integral part of their relationship.  
  
Buffy scowled. "Hey! Listen, Spike, I came here to - "  
  
"Break my door," he supplied helpfully.  
  
"No, actually, I had a moment of temporary insanity and came here to ask if you wanted to go the Bronze. But obviously you're too big a jerk for that to work." She turned around to storm out. Pity there wasn't a door to slam for dramatic effect.  
  
Spike watched her go, glaring at her back. Stupid bitch, breaking his door - wait a second, what did she say? He hurried after her.  
  
"Wait! Buffy, what was that?"  
  
Buffy pretended she didn't hear him and kept walking. She doubted it would work, but it was worth a shot.  
  
"Buffy!" Spike finally caught up with her. "Forget about the door - "  
  
"It's not the door. Spike, we can't be in the same room without fighting."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So, that's bad."  
  
"Luv, that little spat was no different than what any other couple goes through. You can't blame it on Slayers and vampires or anything else." Buffy didn't respond. "You owe me a date."  
  
Buffy stood still a moment after Spike finished talking. Her reasonable, rational self wanted to say forget it and keep walking. Instead, she turned to him and asked, "You buying?"  
  
"Only if you don't ask where the money comes from."  
  
Buffy made a face. "I should. But I won't."  
  
"Step in the right direction."  
  
"Actually, it's a step backwards."  
  
"Is not."  
  
"Is too."  
  
Bickering, Buffy and Spike walked to the Bronze, side by side, blonde heads bobbing in animated argument.  
  
***  
  
While Anya babbled about something (undoubtedly important to her) Xander sipped his beer and watched the dancers on the floor. Anya had tried to drag him out there earlier. However, he had promptly tripped and struck a very big football player. Said football player had taken offense and tried to separate Xander's important parts from other important parts. Anya had successfully intervened (and therefore wounded his masculinity). Xander wasn't going to risk dancing anytime soon.  
  
As he tuned out his girlfriend and nodded at the right moments, he could have sworn he saw Buffy dancing with Spike out on the floor. He choked on his next sip of beer.  
  
"Xander, are you okay? Breathing is good for you. You should start doing that again."  
  
"Uh-huh. Ahn, how many drinks have I had?"  
  
"One and a half," she supplied helpfully. Then a look of horror crossed her face. "You're not too drunk to have sex tonight, are you?"  
  
"What? No! I just thought I saw Spike of all people dancing with Buffy."  
  
Anya turned her head in the direction he was looking. "You did." She cocked her head, considering the couple. "I am pleased to see they are finally giving in to their mutual attraction."  
  
"What attraction?" Xander stood up. "Will must have done a spell again. 'Cause there's no way Buffy would let Spike near her. Especially touch her like - " He stood up as he saw the vampire's hands start to wander.  
  
"Hands off, Dead Boy!"  
  
Spike turned around. The whelp stood there, glaring at him. He shrugged and turned back to face Buffy.  
  
Unfortunately, Buffy wasn't willing to continue dancing.  
  
"Xander, what are you doing here?" she asked, her face getting that tense, tight expression people get when they're trying to be polite but are really upset inside.  
  
"Anya wanted to go out. Buffy, what the hell are you doing with him?"  
  
The him in question started growling. Buffy gently put a hand on his arm and gave him a look, silently telling him to let her handle this.  
  
Spike fought the urge to mark his claim. Instead,  
  
"I'm getting a drink. Want something?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. He left, for the moment.  
  
Spike safely gone, Xander started to let loose. "Buffy? Is this a spell? Can you explain?"  
  
Buffy restrained the desire to shout, 'Why do I have to explain myself to you?!'. Instead, she merely said, "No spell. Spike and I are married. We decided to see if it can work. It probably won't, but I'm willing to try and so is he. End of story."  
  
"No, not end of story! Last time you were under a spell, you were all 'no, I'm the Slayer, I'm immune'."  
  
"That was different."  
  
"How?"  
  
"It felt different. Xander, I can assure you, this is spell free."  
  
Xander huffed at that. Trying another tactic, he said, "But Buffy, Spike is a vampire. Vampire equals evil. Remember?"  
  
"I'm the Slayer. It's not like I can forget."  
  
Xander raised an eyebrow. "Then what's up with you and the ungrateful dead?"  
  
"I don't know. But I want to find out."  
  
Xander really, really wanted to yell at her some more. Tell her to stake the monster and get it over with. But he had known Buffy long enough to know when she was determined. Like now. Buffy was mimicking Willow's resolve face. Resolve face meant no further discussion under pain of, well, pain of something bad. He had never tested Willow to find out. Given how strong Buffy was, he wasn't about to test her either.  
  
"I won't make a fuss. Just promise me one thing."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"When this reaches critical meltdown, let me be there to watch you dump him. It'll give me a happy."  
  
Buffy's lips quirked up. "When I dump Spike, I promise you can have a seat."  
  
With a nod, Xander left. Buffy let out a sigh. One roadblock dealt with. For now. She wasn't looking forward to the blow-up that would occur if she decided to drop the divorce.  
  
Since when was she acknowledging that possibility? Buffy frowned slightly. Her whole plan hinged on Spike proving himself a total jack-ass. They date, they fail, she dumps. That was the plan.  
  
Only, Spike had been charming, witty, and a good dancer. He hadn't made any crude remarks, gestures, or been at all vampire-y. In fact, if Buffy hadn't known better, she would have thought she was on a date with a perfectly human guy. Why did Spike have to confuse her like that?  
  
"The whelp leave like a good little boy?"  
  
Speak of the devil. Wow, let the irony flow.  
  
"Don't call him that. He has a name, you know."  
  
Spike snorted. Buffy mock glared at him. "You should be nicer to my friends."  
  
"When they're nicer to me, I will be," was his retort. Setting down his drink, he pulled her back to the dance floor. Spike smiled as Buffy slid into his arms easily and joined him in moving to the music. That her conversation with Xander had been negative was a sure thing in his mind. But the whelp had left without causing any trouble and she was still willing to dance. He had caught the tail end - Buffy was still planning on this to fail. Spike decided not to hold it against her. His girl never gave into anything without a fight. That's what he loved about her best. Loved? Spike thought a moment, then grinned. Yes, loved.  
  
***  
  
"That Riley's old girlfriend?"  
  
"Looks like." Forrest watched the dancing couple. "Never could see what he saw in her."  
  
Graham checked out the blonde from his vantage point at the bar. "She's hot. Have to give him credit for that."  
  
"True. But she's a risk."  
  
"And a paranormal being." Graham frowned slightly. "Is that Hostile 17 with her?"  
  
Forrest studied the man opposite Buffy intently. "Yes."  
  
"Shouldn't we call the unit, prepare for a retrieval?"  
  
"No. We should report to Walsh, let her decide. She might have something special planned."  
  
"Can't believe the so-called Slayer is dancing with an HST."  
  
"Failures like that are why our unit exists. The old ways are not effective."  
  
"Science, not superstition," replied Graham, quoting Walsh's primary directive for the Initiative.  
  
"Damn right."  
  
The soldiers left the Bronze, ready to report to their superior their observations. Buffy and Spike continued dancing, unaware of what was being planned. 


	13. Chapter Eleven

Thanks for the reviews: Culf, Vash-Chan aka Makoto Almasy, ms trick, Ultra Woman, tinkerbell42, SNangel, BaKaBaBi, artemis66, timeends, Kari Mouke, Tiffany, SixteenGoingOnFour, Alex92, and twisty-treat.  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
"Closing time, people," the deejay announced. "Finish your drink, finish your dance, then head out. We'll still be here tomorrow guys, so don't you worry."  
  
Spike quirked an eyebrow at Buffy, sitting next to him in their booth. "Care to dance?"  
  
Buffy made a face as the deejay put the final song on. "To that? You have got to be kidding me. Let's go."  
  
Spike nodded. At least she showed some understanding to what good music was. He moved to help her out of her seat. As he did so, Buffy's lips tilted up. That's one of the funny things she learned about Spike tonight. He did all these old fashioned, gentlemanly things with her. Like help her up, or pull the chair out for her first. When Riley had done them, there was a faintly patronizing air that accompanied it. With Spike, it was all 'this is the way you're supposed to treat a lady'. Angel had done that too. Must be their whole born in another century deal.  
  
They threaded their way through the few remaining stragglers tiredly gyrating to the music, then stepped out the door. Under the dim illumination of the Bronze's sign, Buffy stuck her hands in her pockets and looked at the ground. Here came the awkward moment. Does he leave her here? Try to walk her home? Do some typically Spike-like crude thing and shatter the illusion?  
  
Spike mimicked Buffy and slipped his own hands into his duster pockets. This was feeling decidedly too human date-like. Not an area of expertise for him. Where was his guide to dating, Anya? She must have some advice for this sort of thing. Hell, she had advice for everything else.  
  
"So," Buffy said suddenly, breaking the awkward silence thing, "what next?"  
  
"Well, my original plan involved kissing you senseless and taking you away to my crypt to ravish you. But I'm open to suggestions."  
  
"You try it and this whole thing's off."  
  
"That's why I said I'm open to suggestions. Knew you'd feel that way about it."  
  
Buffy frowned. "What are you saying?"  
  
"Probably not what you seem to think I am."  
  
"I heard something about ravishing me. How did you mean that?"  
  
"It was a joke, luv. I didn't mean it," Spike back pedaled, sensing impending Slayer wrath. Not how he wanted this night to end.  
  
"So you don't want to ravish me?"  
  
Spike got a deer caught in headlights look. What was the right answer? Yes meant he only wanted her for sex, no might mean he doesn't find her attractive...  
  
"Uh..."  
  
Buffy laughed at his confusion. Teasing Spike was fun; he got the cutest look on his face when you stumped him.  
  
What was so funny? Then Spike realized - "Slayer, were you just flirting with me?"  
  
"Maybe," Buffy taunted, a sparkle in her eye. "What do you think?"  
  
"I think you were."  
  
"Then I guess I was."  
  
The two smiled at each other, enjoying the silliness of the moment. This wasn't so bad, now was it?  
  
Buffy was the first to look away. This evening wasn't going according to plan. First, he's all Boyfriend!Spike at the Bronze, and here she is being all Flirt!Buffy, and that so won't lead to the big messy break up that's on the schedule.  
  
Spike sighed mentally. There she goes again. He could see the wheels in her head turning - and they were spinning in a direction away from him.  
  
"I have to go now," Buffy announced abruptly. "Patrol. Dorm. Stuff."  
  
"I'll come," he offered.  
  
"I don't need help."  
  
"'Course you don't. Doesn't mean I can't tag along for the fun."  
  
"Fine. Just don't get in my way," Buffy said as she set off to patrol. Spike grinned. Well, coming from Buffy that was a positively friendly invitation. He trotted after her.  
  
She marched through a few cemeteries, the park, and the usual route checking out the alleys behind the bars. The few vamps they found, Spike wisely let her stake. She was obviously in a mood. Not to mention, it was fun to watch her fight. Spike had thought so since the first time he had seen her.  
  
Lost in memories of that infamous meeting (with occasional alterations making it turn out much more enjoyable for the both of them), Spike didn't notice the pack of vamps until they were upon them.  
  
He wasn't long in recovering, though, taking out his stake the instant the first vamp made a jab at him. A few feet away, Buffy dealt death to hers with equal grace. Spike watched her a moment before impaling his attacker without turning around to face him. Before the dust had hit the ground, Spike had already started in on another.  
  
Buffy twisted away from the ill timed blow of one lady vamp, pivoting to line up for a strike. Dust. Another vampire flung himself at her, practically begging, 'stake me!'. Buffy obliged. Dust. The same went for the vamp sneaking up behind her. Buffy turned at her waist, stake in ready position, and stabbed. Dust. She was on a roll, pumped and ready for action.  
  
Very soon, there was only one vampire left. He had probably been the leader, sending out the minions to soften up the enemy before coming in for the kill himself. Spike guessed the vamp's age at about twenty or so. A little young to think he could take on a Slayer, but then Spike had been that age when he'd killed his first one. However, Spike had no intention of allowing any Slayer killings tonight.  
  
Buffy saw the last vampire coming in at her. Waiting until it was almost upon her, Buffy lunged forward to stake it. Just as her stake pierced its heart, Buffy realized that Spike had had the same idea, only his stake came through the back.  
  
As the vampire collapsed to dust, Buffy and Spike were just barely able to turn away their weapons from striking each other. Buffy collapsed against him, causing him to trip and fall backwards to the ground, taking her along for the ride.  
  
"Oops."  
  
Buffy blushed as she realized what a compromising position she'd gotten them into. Spike lay on his back, with her stretched out on top.  
  
"I'm not complaining." In fact, Spike was quite enjoying the feel of the Slayer lying all squished on top of him. Parts were touching other parts in a verrry nice way. Though it would be better if she would just scoot down a little further - No, remember what Anya had said. Think with the brain above, not below, the belt. Well, actually she had said, 'Don't be a typical male and think with your penis,' but it all meant the same thing.  
  
Just as he was getting that under control, Buffy had to sit up. And straddle him.  
  
Now that was a lovely sight. Eyes bright, cheeks flushed, good view of her heaving chest. She was obviously still charged from the fight. Not to mention exactly how she was straddling him. He could get used to this.  
  
Buffy wondered why she wasn't, you know, pulling away. Probably had something to do with how good this felt. Especially the way Spike was pressing against her - Buffy's eyes flew open. Was that what she thought it was? She started to bolt away.  
  
However, Spike had other ideas. He sat up abruptly and grabbed hold of her arms, pulling her against him. Anya was probably right, but no way was he watching Buffy run away. He kissed her, hard.  
  
"Mmph!"  
  
Buffy couldn't honestly say that she hadn't seen that coming - or that she'd fought particularly hard against it. Instead of breaking away, she opened her mouth and let his tongue in. They kissed passionately for a few minutes, stopping only when her annoying need to breathe interrupted. Spike tugged her back down, so they lay on the cemetery ground. His hands let go of her arms and ran down her back, ghosting their way back up under her shirt. Buffy responded with an eager moan.  
  
"You know," he murmured into her ear, trailing little kisses against her, "there is actually a very comfortable bed back in my crypt."  
  
Spike's words served as a cold dash of ice water to Buffy. She quickly rolled off him and got to her feet. "I knew this was too good to be true. You always have to screw things up!"  
  
Spike stood up, frustrated. Things had been going so well! "It's not like you were saying no!"  
  
"Now I am! You actually thought I would go back to your CRYPT with you?"  
  
"Well, yeah. Why not?"  
  
"For starters, it's a crypt!"  
  
"So that's it. Not that I was asking for more, but that I was reminding you I wasn't some milk-sop college boy? C'mon, SLAYER, you know better."  
  
Buffy's face tightened. "Maybe I do. Thanks for the night, Spike. I think I'd better go now."  
  
She left him standing in the graveyard. Spike watched her go, then kicked a gravestone in disgust. It shattered. Looks like another trip to Anya's was in order. Hopefully her advice would stick next time.  
  
***  
  
Buffy stomped up the stairs to her dorm room and flopped onto her bed, grateful that Willow had found other places to sleep at night. Right now, she was not going to pleasant Buffy company. She was cranky and wired and edgy -  
  
And seriously horny from an aborted make-out session.  
  
Buffy rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Everything was going all screwy now, and she wasn't even getting screwed. Well, the last part was her own fault. Spike was more than willing in that department.  
  
But doing anything with Spike seemed wrong. And not just in a he's a vampire way. That was the scary part. As much as she tried to blame the most recent mess on his vampire-ness (is that a word?) she knew that wasn't true. It really boiled down to the fact she wasn't ready to sleep with a guy she'd only gone on one date with. Even if they were married. And that's what really freaked her. Because that meant that she DID want a relationship with Spike; she just needed time.  
  
Why couldn't she just declare him vampire, therefore evil and off limits? Why did he have to be so sweet sometimes, like at the Bronze when that sleazy guy was checking her out and Spike made the lumpies at him and then they went and slow danced on the floor and he held her really close but still gave her room to breathe?  
  
Buffy smiled. It had been so strange, and kind of nice, to see Spike in that light. Everything at the Bronze had been wonderful, barring Xander's little interruption (she was still a little pissed at him about that), and she had had a great time. Much better time than with Riley.  
  
Okay. Stop analyzing date. Date analysis only leads to freak outs and badness. Go to sleep, forget the Spike date ever happened, and deal with it in the morning.  
  
Buffy put on her pajamas and tucked herself under the covers.  
  
And decided not to acknowledge the hope her dreams had a special peroxided, blue eyed guest star helping her work out any residual horniness.  
  
***  
  
After Graham and Forrest had reported their observations to Walsh, she ordered Finn to come and see her. They had much to discuss.  
  
"Agent Finn, I understand you were recently engaged in a relationship with the paranormal being known as the Slayer."  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
"And that you are aware of her own relationship with Hostile 17."  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
Walsh got up from behind her desk and walked around the room a moment. "At ease, Agent Finn. You're not on trial for your private life."  
  
Riley relaxed minutely.  
  
"Did you know that there are a multitude of paranormal beings in the world?" she brought up conversationally. "We've got the bulk of the HSTs catalogued, we believe, yet there are others we have insufficient data on. Witches, for example. Humans who are capable of tapping into the very forces HSTs thrive on. Seers, born with the ability to perceive the world with senses the average human cannot comprehend."  
  
Riley made no comment. He merely stood there, waiting for Professor Walsh to reach her point.  
  
"This brings me to the Slayer. According to current data, a human girl is somehow granted the powers of most HSTs and charged with the protection of humanity. She may even be possessed by an HST herself. Quite a fascinating story, when you think about it."  
  
"It is," Riley agreed cautiously, wondering where this was leading.  
  
Walsh turned to him. Bluntly, she said, "I want to get my hands on the current Slayer. She would make an excellent test subject, providing us with data on a paranormal being like herself. If at all possible, I want to recapture Hostile 17 as well in order to study their interactions together. The amount of data we have on anything approaching human/HST relations is abominable. Studying the Slayer and Hostile 17 together might remedy that. Do you understand me?"  
  
"What do you want me to do?" Riley responded tersely.  
  
"I'd like you to help us capture the Slayer and Hostile 17, using any information you have from your association with them."  
  
Riley paused, his soldier façade breaking a moment. "I don't think I can betray Buffy, Professor Walsh," he admitted.  
  
"Even though she betrayed you by lowering herself to be with a hostile?" Walsh asked. She was well aware of his opinions regarding the Slayer's relationship with the vampire.  
  
"Even then. As useful as data on the Slayer might prove to us, I believe it helps the cause of the Initiative more to have her out on the streets."  
  
Walsh was not surprised by this, by any means. Agent Finn was a soldier with a rock solid honor code. He had yet to fully embrace all the - the subtleties (yes, that's a good word), all the subtleties of the Initiative's work. She wasn't worried. In time, he would learn.  
  
"I understand. I'll take your opinion into consideration. And Hostile 17?"  
  
Riley's face now betrayed a flicker of pleasure at the thought. "Ready and willing to help you there, ma'am."  
  
That would do, for now, Walsh decided. Hopefully, his position regarding the Slayer would change in the future. And if it didn't do so naturally, she would help it along. Finn was one of their best recruits; there was no reason to alienate him. 


	14. Chapter Twelve

Thanks for reviewing: QteCuttlFish, Chelle86, LilyRite, BaKaBaBi, lilmamaday, artemisss66, uandme4eternity, Maiden Ro, Kristen, Alex92, timeends, ms trick, Kari Mouke, Tiffany, SixteenGoingOnFour, SNangel, UltraWoman, spuffylover, Culf, Vash-Chan aka Makoto Almasy, and RoboShiflo. *blows air kisses of thanks*  
  
Chapter Twelve  
  
Buffy woke up with sun streaming onto her face from the window. With a yawn, she stretched, every muscle totally relaxed. Her dreams last night had been just what she needed.  
  
She stopped mid-stretch. Quick, guilt check. Should she feel guilty for having sexy dreams about her husband, who happens to be a vampire? Buffy studied her Guilt Meter. It told her to feel mildly disturbed, but not obsess about it. Issue resolved, Buffy stood up to get dressed.  
  
Then sat back down when Willow entered the room.  
  
"Good morning," Buffy said cheerily as Willow made her way to her closest and began to pick out clothes.  
  
Willow turned around. "Aren't you a perky Buffy this morning? Have a good night's sleep, did you?"  
  
"Uh-huh. Verry nice. How about you?"  
  
Willow blushed a little and buried her face into the sweater she was holding. "I, uh, slept fine."  
  
"I bet you got a lot of sleeping done," Buffy agreed with a straight face, amused by her friend's embarrassment.  
  
"So, uh," Willow quickly searched for a new topic of conversation, "what did you do last night?"  
  
"I, uh, I - " Buffy fumbled, unsure about how to say she had gone on a date with Spike and then made out with him in the graveyard.  
  
Willow's eyes widened as she skipped over to Buffy's side. If she read her friend correctly, there were smoochies to tell! "Did you go on a date? Was he cute? What's his name?" Willow frowned a second. "And how are you going to tell him you're already married? Oh no, you'll break the poor guy's heart! Poor nameless Buffy's date guy."  
  
"Relax Will, there will be no breaking of hearts, because there was no nameless date guy."  
  
Willow raised an eyebrow. Tell me another, Buffy. "You got the I had a date blush going, and the cheery morning mood, and the clothes on the floor are your knock'em dead outfit. That means date. So spill."  
  
Willow had on her resolve face. Buffy knew this meant that she had to spill, or else. No one had ever figured out what "or else" meant, but they never wanted to find out. "It's sort of complicated."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"And you'll probably disapprove of him."  
  
"Buffy, I recently realized I was gay and have just come back from my girlfriend's room, where I spent the night. Glass house, no throwing stones allowed."  
  
"Spike doesn't care that I went on a date because Spike was the date."  
  
Willow blinked. Then blinked again. "I can't say that I'm surprised. Of course, I can't say that I expected it either. Why?"  
  
Buffy frowned. "Long. Complicated. Basically, Spike convinced me to give our marriage a chance. So I did. Hence, the date."  
  
Willow tried to get a reading on how Buffy felt about this. As the supportive best friend, what should she do? Say Spike equals bad, so forget about him? Ask for details in a concerned way, or a curious way, or a concerned and curious way? Tell Buffy to follow her heart, even if it led to Spike?  
  
Willow opted to treat this like any other date. "So, how did it go?"  
  
"That's where things get super confusing. It went well. We had a good time, he was for the most part only minorly jerk like, and he paid for the drinks." Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Of course, I was careful not to ask where he got the money. Willow, should I have asked? Was I being a bad Slayer by not asking?"  
  
"This was a Buffy night," Willow reassured, "and if Buffy goes on a date, she doesn't insist the guy explain where he gets the money. Besides, I'm sure there are legitimate ways for Spike to earn money."  
  
Buffy gave her a look.  
  
"At least you know he didn't steal it from his dinner," Willow offered helpfully.  
  
"For some reason, that's oddly comforting."  
  
"I try. So," Willow tried to get a little more information, "why was it super confusing?"  
  
"Because he was supposed to be a big jerk and then I could dump him without feeling guilty," Buffy explained patiently. "That was the plan."  
  
Willow nodded supportively. This was obviously a Buffy logic moment. There was nothing to do but look like you understand and hope you can puzzle it out later.  
  
"But of course Spike couldn't follow the plan," Buffy complained. "He had to be all perfect gentlemanly for the date part anyway and then we went patrolling and then there was the whole me falling on top of Spike fiasco, and then we - " Buffy stopped abruptly.  
  
"And then you?" Willow prompted. She had a strong feeling this was the part that involved smoochies.  
  
"And then we said goodnight and went home," Buffy finished quickly, cheeks turning bright red.  
  
"Did you say goodnight the same way Tara and I say goodnight?" Willow asked, a teasing glint in her eyes.  
  
"How else do you say - Will, what a dirty mind you have!"  
  
"You figured it out," Willow pointed out.  
  
"Humph."  
  
"So," Willow continued, "what are you going to do from here?"  
  
Buffy thought a moment. Then her lips quirked up. "I think I'd like to say goodnight to Spike again."  
  
Good for you, Buffy, Willow thought. You deserve to have a special someone, even if it is a vampire.  
  
***  
  
Later that same day, Anya marched over to Spike's crypt. She knew he and Buffy had gone on a date last night, and she wanted details! She quite enjoyed helping with the non-vengeance part of the relationship and desired to see results.  
  
She found Spike, as she more often than not did, sitting in front of the television watching bad daytime TV. Distractedly, Anya noticed it was one of the ones with the overly dramatic music, funny golden lighting, and a great deal of sex and vengeance going on; the last parts being the only interesting things.  
  
"How did your date with Buffy go?" Anya said insistently from her position behind Spike.  
  
At the sudden sound, Spike jumped up. "You know, there's this brilliant thing called a door. You knock on it."  
  
"Your door is missing," Anya informed him, "so I was unable to knock."  
  
"Oh, right. But you should still say hello or something. Let a fellow know you're there before asking questions."  
  
"I consider my usage of human conventions to be a continually expanding process. I will try to remember that one." Anya then changed the topic back to her original question. "How did your date with Buffy go?"  
  
Spike shrugged. "Went okay until I kissed her. Slayer sends the most confusing signals I've ever seen."  
  
"Did you kiss her or did you aggressively proposition her?"  
  
"Er, maybe a bit of the first leading into the second?" Spike answered.  
  
"Spike!" Anya scolded. "I thought we had determined that the directly sexual approach wouldn't work. You were supposed to just stick to kissing her, not initiate intercourse!"  
  
"All I did was kiss her," Spike whined, "I didn't get to do anything else."  
  
"But you tried to do more," Anya accused. "What did I tell you about that?"  
  
"Think with the brain above, not below, the belt," Spike dutifully recited.  
  
"Actually, I said - "  
  
"That's not the point, Anya. What I want to know is, what should I do next?"  
  
Anya frowned. "I don't know. Since I had initiated the relationship, Xander didn't have to worry about that. Though I could ask him what he did for his previous girlfriends."  
  
"That's okay," Spike quickly assured her, "no need to involve him." However, Spike couldn't help but think it would be interesting to see Xander's face when Anya asked for help with his courtship of Buffy.  
  
"You're right." Anya thought a moment. "Maybe you should send flowers? Flowers are pretty, and can be expensive. Spending money is a good way to show you care. I always feel very happy when Xander gives me presents. It leads to very good sex."  
  
"But I don't want that. Well, I do, but I can wait. I just want to be with Buffy," Spike explained.  
  
"Then I still suggest flowers. Expensive, pretty flowers. I know a very nice shop where Xander bought my corsage for the prom."  
  
"Okay, flowers. Got it." Spike nodded firmly, mentally tallying his cash. Sounds like some petty theft would be the order of the day. No, wait, Buffy wouldn't like that. Maybe he should check out the poker game down by Willy's.  
  
Bloody hell. He was already making decisions based on what Buffy would like. And Spike knew, just knew he would stick to them. He'd always been like that. Love's bitch, now and forever.  
  
"Of course, if the flowers don't work out," Anya continued talked, "I'm told that poetry can be very cute, even if it isn't very good."  
  
"Poetry? No way, that's for poofters," Spike snorted. "I'd never do that." Actually, the truth is he would never show Buffy the lines already written hiding at the bottom of the sarcophagus. That would ruin what little shreds he had left of his Big Bad rep.  
  
Anya didn't even notice his frantic cover-up. She was still talking. "Xander told me that Buffy dated a poet once if that's any help. Though I don't see why she would date a poet. Personally, I've always found them to be all talk and no action. There was this one poet I met a couple centuries ago who - "  
  
Spike enjoyed Anya's company. Really, he did. But when she started to ramble like this, it was best to end the conversation.  
  
"That's fascinating, Anya. But now I think I'll try to take your advice and get some flowers. I'll be sure to check out that florist shop you mentioned." Spike hurried to the ladder to the sewers. "Thanks for the advice."  
  
Anya watched him leave, made a harrumphing noise. "Men!" Then she noticed the TV was still on. "Ooh, that's one of the vengeance shows!" Anya quickly sat down to watch the trashy talk show. In her day, those people had been some of her best customers.  
  
***  
  
The shop bell rang, it's distinctive tinkle echoing about the silent florist shop. Ashley looked up from her spot behind the counter. It had been a relatively slow day so far. Only one sale, to a woman who wanted some potted plants for her window sill. Barring that, it had just been Ashley and the flowers today.  
  
She watched the new potential customer avidly. He definitely didn't look like the average patron of Francesca's Flowers. In fact, he looked a bit like the kind who made fun of florists in general and enjoyed crushing fields of daisies. Combat boots, long black leather coat, and seriously bleached hair. Ashley was surprised that she didn't see any piercings. He looked like the sort who would have a few. Not that it would have detracted from his serious hotness.  
  
The Hot Punk in a Florist Shop was randomly wandering the aisles, a somewhat bemused expression on his face. He was obviously out of his depth. Ashley wondered what had driven him to the shop - he didn't strike her as the sort who liked to be confused. After watching him roam around the shop, searching for something he didn't know how to find, she took pity on him and went over to help.  
  
"May I help you?"  
  
Hottie jerked backward from the display of figurines he was examining. One fell. He quickly caught it. As he set it back down, he said, "Uh, yeah. You could."  
  
Ashley carefully rearranged the figurine so it matched the rest of the display. "What are you looking for?"  
  
"Flowers," he said confidently.  
  
"For whom?" Ashley prompted. "We have quite a selection."  
  
His confidence seemed to falter. "Well, it's for my, uh, my," he said, distractedly fingering the ring on his left hand.  
  
"Your wife?" Ashley guessed. Dang, he was taken. All the good ones were.  
  
"Close enough. Do you have any suggestions? All my friend told me was something expensive." He looked around the store, "I'm not sure what fits the bill."  
  
He was married? Ashley wondered how he had gotten that far without even basic flower knowledge. His wife was probably willing to overlook a few flaws for a guy that cute. "Do you have any idea what kind of flowers she likes?"  
  
"No."  
  
Ashley wasn't surprised. If he had, he would have come in, bought them, then left in all of five minutes. Guys come in to buy and leave; they rarely shop. "Well, then I'd suggest a mixed bouquet. Do you know what colors she likes?"  
  
"No." He seemed to think a bit more, then added, "Just not anything... blood-like."  
  
Ashley stepped away from the case of deep red roses. Now that was a bizarre turn of phrase. Instead, she wandered through the various cases, choosing bright, cheery blossoms that blended together well.  
  
"This should do very nicely. It has a mixture of roses, orchids, daisies, and a few others. It's a bit costly, but I can assure you all of them are fresh."  
  
"Whatever." The man took it, holding the bouquet awkwardly. Reaching into his pocket, he asked, "How much?"  
  
Ashley named the price. "I'm sure your wife will like it very much." As she took his money, she added with a wink, "Maybe enough to get you off the couch."  
  
"Hope so," he muttered on the way out, "but, I'd be happy if I got as far as the couch."  
  
Ashley watched him go, a peroxided punk carrying a bouquet of flowers. Not a sight you saw every day. She leaned back with a sigh. There went the only highlight in her day.  
  
Outside the shop, Spike was debating on the next step. Now that he had the flowers, he wasn't sure exactly what to do with them. Deciding that the direct course was the best, he set off to deliver them to her dorm. At least that'd give him an excuse to see her.  
  
***  
  
After charming his way into the building, (he hoped that girl never met a vamp, she'd be dead before the vamp crossed the threshold), Spike stood awkwardly in front of Buffy's dorm room, bouquet clenched tightly in his fist. With his other hand, he waved between knocking and dropping the flowers and making a run for it.  
  
How do humans do this, this dating? With Dru, all he had to do was kill a few people, get a doll or two, and she was all over him. None of this door-knocking and bell-ringing and date-going. That, that was for humans.  
  
Which Buffy was. Spike knocked, three quick raps.  
  
Knock! Knock! Knock!  
  
Inside, Buffy looked up from her incomprehensible psych book, eager for any excuse to forget the thing. She jumped up and answered the door.  
  
"Spike? What are you doing here?"  
  
Spike affected a shocked expression. "What, a husband can't visit?"  
  
Hearing this, two girls walking down the hall gave Buffy strange looks and started to giggle. Buffy reached out and pulled Spike into her room, causing the girls to giggle even more.  
  
"Buffy, I'm shocked. I didn't know you ready to start up our conjugal relations."  
  
Buffy frowned a second. Huh? Then she figured it out. "Spike!"  
  
"Sorry, luv, couldn't resist."  
  
"Then resist better next time." Buffy crossed the room to sit down on her bed. "What are you really doing here?"  
  
"Seeing you."  
  
"And?"  
  
"That's as far as my plan went, actually."  
  
"If this is how your evil plots worked, I'm not surprised I always kicked your butt."  
  
"Hey," Spike pointed out, "I've seen your Scooby Gang at work, you know. The fact that they ever foiled a single evil scheme shows that angels do watch over fools."  
  
"And to that I say my own, Hey!" Buffy leaped off her bed. "My friends are not," she finally noticed the bouquet in his hand, "flowers?"  
  
"Huh? What's that got to do with - " Spike realized where Buffy was pointing. "Oh, yeah."  
  
"Did you get me flowers?" Buffy asked, a more than slightly incredulous tone in her voice.  
  
"Uh, should I have?" Spike awkwardly hid the bouquet behind him.  
  
Buffy watched him, amused. None of her other boyfriends had gotten her flowers. Well, Angel in his psycho phase had dropped off a rose or two, but that didn't count. She found it...cute. Especially with the pretty bouquet.  
  
"Yes," she answered solemnly, "you should have."  
  
"Well then," Spike said, clearly relieved, "I think these are for you."  
  
Buffy reached out and snatched them away.  
  
"Greedy little thing, aren't you?" he remarked as she inhaled their scent.  
  
Buffy ignored him and proceeded to enjoy the lovely bouquet. Spike was pleased to see that he had done this part right, at least. That flower girl had known what she was doing.  
  
"Wow, this is really sweet of you." Buffy peered over the tops of the flowers and demanded, "Whose idea was this?"  
  
"Mine?" Spike hazarded.  
  
Buffy waited.  
  
"Anya's," he finally admitted, "with some help from the shop girl."  
  
"What were you doing talking to Anya about flowers?" Buffy wanted to know.  
  
"She wants to help yours truly get the girl," he told her. "You aren't jealous about me chatting her up, are you?"  
  
"Me? Pfft, of course not," she responded quickly, ignoring the brief surge of envy at the thought of another girl talking to HER - not husband/boyfriend/significant other. Um, exactly what was Spike to her?  
  
"Spike, what are we?"  
  
"Well, I'm a devastatingly handsome creature of the night who's taken a fancy to you, the more often that not obnoxious Slayer."  
  
Buffy frowned. "A) That's not what I was asking. B) If anyone's the obnoxious one here, it's you, 'devastatingly handsome creature of the night'." Buffy marked the last phrase with air quotes.  
  
"What's with the air quotes?"  
  
"Because it shows how totally wrong that phrase is? Except for the creature of the night part."  
  
"So you don't think I'm devastatingly handsome?" he mock pouted.  
  
"Only in your dreams, Spike. The best you can hope for is fairly good looking," Buffy lied. There was no way she was going to tell him was beyond devastatingly handsome, especially when he did that thing with his eyes...Okay Buffy, drooling ruins the effect.  
  
"I'm hurt, Slayer, I really am," Spike teased. He had caught that look in her eyes, yes he had. He hid a smirk.  
  
"And I feel so sorry, Spikey. I do. But what I really want to know," Buffy tried to bring the conversation back to her original question, "what are we to each other? Beyond what the state of California says."  
  
There went his first answer. "Former mortal enemies bordering on dating?" he guessed. "What do you think we are?"  
  
"More of the same."  
  
"You do?" She did?  
  
"Spike, we went on a date last night. You brought me flowers today. I think we've officially moved beyond the mortal enemies stage of the relationship. Of course, that ends the moment you try to kill me and my friends again, which is when I stake you," she explained matter-of-factly.  
  
Made sense. Spike couldn't argue with that logic - Slayer had to do what a Slayer had to do. "So where do we go from here, then?"  
  
Buffy stared at the bouquet in her hands. She stroked the petals of one beautiful butter yellow rose. That had been so sweet of Spike, even if he had required prompting. Where did they go from here? She set the bouquet down on her bed. What was it she had told Willow to do that first day in Sunnydale? Seize the day? Buffy turned to face Spike. He was watching her, an expectant look on his face. Her insides melted a little, remembering times when his eyes had looked at her like that, only a with a lot more of that ice-blue fire. Yup, it had been seize the day. Because tomorrow you may die. And for Slayers that was truer than for anybody else. Didn't she have the right to as much happiness as she could grab?  
  
Spike wondered what was going on in Buffy's head. In all the time he had known her, as both enemy and ally, she had had moods that could rival Drusilla. He knew he wasn't always the most emotionally stable person in the world, too, but Buffy could go from hot to cold in two seconds flat. The question was, which way was she running right now?  
  
He got his answer when Buffy kissed him, straight on. The first kiss she had initiated, no less. Spike returned it in full force.  
  
"Mmm, what are you doing, love?" he broke away a moment  
  
"Seizing the day," she responded before kissing him again.  
  
"I like this plan," he murmured before joining her.  
  
Arms entwined and pulled bodies closer  
  
***  
  
Willow hurried to Buffy's room. Faith was out of the coma and on the streets; Buffy had to be informed. She yanked the door open.  
  
Then saw Buffy making out with Spike. They were groping and kissing and slowly making their way to the bed -  
  
Willow quickly shut the door. Faith wasn't going anywhere. She could wait. Willow slowly turned around, slipping a rubber band about the knob before heading over to Tara's for the night. 


	15. Chapter Thirteen

Thanks to zanthinegirl and Lore for pointing out major formatting error. And everyone say hi to Chelle86 for helping me with beta'ing this chapter. She'll be helping out lots from now on - so thanks to you, Chelle!  
  
Chapter Thirteen  
  
This was a nice dream, Buffy thought. Someone was holding her in his arms, peppering light kisses on her hair while tracing little patterns on her back. It tickled a little. Buffy giggled and pushed a little at the tickling hand before trying to burrow herself deeper into the sheets. Though the mattress she was lying on seemed harder than she remembered.  
  
She decided to ignore that and try to go back to sleep. She didn't want this comfy dream to end.  
  
Then the mattress started rumbling.  
  
"You awake, love?"  
  
Buffy opened her eyes. And realized her lovely dream wasn't actually a dream. She was snuggled up against Spike, who had one hand on her back and the other stroking her hair. Her own hands were resting comfortably on his chest. The bedcovers were twisted and tangled every which way, the bouquet of flowers lay wilted on the floor, and somehow some roses from the bouquet were mixed up with the sheets. Oh, and neither of them was wearing, well, anything.  
  
Last night's activities came crashing back to her. Last night's very, very pleasurable activities. What had she been thinking? Oh yeah, seize the moment. Seize the Spike (ooh, that had been fun). Buffy's eyes glazed over, her mind in a happy place. Then moral voice kicked in. Stop it, Buffy! Seizing the moment is bad! Look what happened the last two times you seized the moment. Hey, wait a second. It's the morning after and the guy's still here!  
  
And apparently interested in seizing the moment some more, Buffy thought as Spike's hands started to wander. Buffy pushed them away as she tried to figure out if she had been Good Decision-Maker Buffy or Bad Decision-Maker Buffy. The pros were telling her to be happy she had a lover; the cons were saying that she shouldn't have rushed things.  
  
Spike felt her withdrawal and stopped his ministrations, a slight frown crossing his face. "What is it?"  
  
Buffy shifted and faced him, pulling up a sheet to cover herself. "It's nothing."  
  
Spike waited, watching her intently.  
  
"It's just." Buffy trailed off, as she sought to explain.  
  
"Don't say this isn't what you wanted. I'd like to point out, love, that you were the one who kissed me first."  
  
"I know, Spike. I was there, too, remember? I'm just not sure if this was a good idea. I mean, we've just started dating, and now this and I don't think we should have - "  
  
Spike gave her a miffed look.  
  
"Except for that," Buffy reassured. "That was good." Then she panicked, past experiences coming up to haunt her. "It was good, right?"  
  
Sensing an opening, he leaned forward, saying, "It was wonderful," before trying to kiss her.  
  
Buffy scooted away and Spike fell face-first into the covers. "Spike! You're missing the point!"  
  
Lifting himself up, he muttered, "I don't think you've gotten to it yet."  
  
"The point is that no matter how fun or, or wonderful all of this," Buffy made vague waving gestures to encompass them and the bed, "was, we shouldn't have."  
  
"You started it," Spike pointed out, sounding more than a little petulant.  
  
"Well the thing is I shouldn't have! I should have known better." Buffy got up and started pacing, entering full rant mode. "I mean, what if Willow had come in? It's not like I have a single, you know. And according to the dorm rules, I'm not even supposed to have a guy in my room after two. And the RA's already leery at me after the whole demon-roomie incident. And - Would you look at me while I'm talking?!"  
  
Spike had been looking at her, just not in the right direction. He'd opted to enjoy the view of a pacing Buffy. Deciding that mentioning that would be a bad idea, instead he said, "First of all, even if Red had, she's got the sense to turn around and go straight to her fellow witch's place, and leave us be. Second, you and I both know that those dorm rules are never enforced. And third - what demon-roomie?"  
  
"Long story." Buffy retreated to her closet and began to hastily yank on various layers. "But do you see what I'm saying?"  
  
"Yes, I do." Spike swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, pulling his discarded pants on before facing her. "I see you're the one missing the point here. What did you say last night? Seize the moment? Love, when you go off and carpe diem like that, you're not supposed to obsess about it afterwards! That's the beauty about being impulsive, that you don't obsess about the consequences. That all you focus on is the now. On what you feel and what you want. And last night," he strutted a little, "you wanted me. So deal with that and stop retreating."  
  
Buffy glared at him. "Last night, I was rationalizing stupid hormoney thoughts brought on by annoying vampires who gave me flowers!"  
  
"That's one I haven't heard before, 'Beware vampires bearing gifts'. C'mon, just admit that you want me. Because I know I want you. Last night, and that time in the motel room, shows just how good it can be if you give in to it."  
  
"Haven't you been listening? It doesn't matter if we're compatible or whatever, what matters is that I've just had sex with a guy who I know practically nothing about!"  
  
"That's not true," he protested.  
  
"Spike, all I know about you is this: your name is William Montgomery, your ex-girlfriend was Drusilla, you've killed two Slayers, and that you think the world is worth saving because of Happy Meals with legs. I know nothing personal about you - what shows you like, how old you are, where you were born, or anything at all, really."  
  
"You have to know more than that. We've known each other for three years."  
  
"And the first time we met you told me you were going to kill me!"  
  
"So? It's not like I can at the moment."  
  
Buffy stomped her foot. "You can be so dense at times!"  
  
"Then explain it to me," he snapped back.  
  
"I wanted to take my time and see if we had anything besides passion tying us together. I wanted a real relationship before we went and actually did anything. But then you showed up with the flowers and were so sweet and handsome and I knew nothing in my dreams could top the real deal and," she noticed Spike's chest puffing out, "stop looking so satisfied or I'll - "  
  
"You'll what?" He leaned in and placed his mouth just a hair's breadth away from her ear. "You'll stake me?" Buffy closed her eyes, as his lips just barely tickled her skin. "Or maybe you'll let me stake you?"  
  
Her eyes shot open as she moved away. "Yes to the first, no to the second. Do you ever think about anything else?"  
  
"No. And I have no problem admitting to it, Slayer." Buffy noticed that it was the first time he'd called her Slayer since their conversation the night before. After she had started with the kiss, it had been nothing but Buffy (and goddess and sweetheart and love). Until now. "I'm a creature of passion. What I want, I try to get, and I enjoy doing it. You, on the other hand, can't make up your mind. I hope you tell me when you do."  
  
Spike reached out and pulled her up against him, hard.  
  
"Just remember - a creature of passion has," he punctuated each word with a thrust against her, "A lot. More. Fun."  
  
Spike let her slide down to the ground, noting with satisfaction her raised heartbeat and flushed cheeks. He then picked up his duster and shirt before turning to leave. "And another thing - I was born in London, was twenty-six when I was turned, have been a vampire for about 120 years and my favorite show is Passions. I like real football, as compared to the pathetic American version, and my favorite colors are black and red. The last two you should have figured out. Hope you enjoy the flowers, luv."  
  
He left.  
  
Buffy stood there a moment, confused. What was he trying to say? What had just happened? She distractedly picked up the wilted bouquet and smoothed the ribbon holding it together. Stroking the still soft petals, she tried to figure out the answer to the question he had asked.  
  
What did she want?  
  
Looking at the clock, Buffy realized the question would have to be pondered while trying to take notes in Modern European History.  
  
***  
  
Buffy still hadn't figured out the answers by the time she walked out of the dark lecture hall into the bright sunlight, making her way back to her dorm. Lost in the mystery that was her relationship with Spike, she didn't hear Riley come up to her until he was practically shouting in her ear.  
  
"Hey, Buffy, how're you doing? You're not still mad at me about the whole Lowell thing, are you?" he asked, anxiously. "It was just that I was so thrown by it all."  
  
Buffy spent a moment wishing Riley would whisk himself away, preferably somewhere faraway, like Antarctica. But Joyce had succeeded in instilling a modicum of manners in her daughter (no matter how many times she had despaired otherwise) and so Buffy said, "Riley, I'm not mad at you about that. We were totally mojo'd up that night, and I really shouldn't have lied to you about Spike. Something was gonna happen. What you said, was, yeah, upsetting and pissed me off, but I get where you were coming from. So it's all forgiven, okay?" She continued walking.  
  
Riley kept pace beside her. "That's, that's good. I didn't want us to end on that note, you know? It just felt wrong. Especially since we're both on the same side, when you get down to it."  
  
Buffy nodded and kept moving, trying to figure out some graceful way to get rid of him. This was way, way too awkward. Hopefully Riley would take the hint and leave.  
  
But this was Riley. He didn't and kept following her. "I wanted to talk to you about that. It doesn't make much sense not to talk to each other, since we're really the only liaisons for our organizations. We better talk, if only so we don't try to take on the same HST. No point in being taken out by friendly fire, huh?"  
  
"That's true. I know I don't want to take out a camouflage-painted commando just because he gets in the way." Buffy noticed Riley's slightly wounded expression and reined her inner bitch in a little. No reason to hurt the poor guy's feelings. "Or vice-versa."  
  
Riley smiled, pleased with her concession. His current orders were to reopen communication between him and the Slayer, then determine the best course of action according to her response. Seeking more data, he asked, in a polite, conversation making voice, "Out of curiosity, how are you and Spike doing?"  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. What a swell question for Riley to choose to ask. "I don't know. It's. complicated. We have our ups and downs." She added wryly, "I guess we're like most couples. If you take out the mortal enemy aspect."  
  
Riley perked up, heartened by this discovery. They were having problems? That would make his assignment so much easier. Maybe Buffy would even realize what a mistake she's made and help him recapture Hostile 17! But that plan would have to wait for later. He would report to Walsh with what he had learned.  
  
"This is my stop, Buffy. Hope to talk to you soon!"  
  
"We'll see. 'Bye." Buffy watched him finally leave, relieved. She was impressed with how well Riley was handling himself, all things considered. But that didn't mean she wanted to talk to him.  
  
***  
  
From her vantage point behind a tree, Faith watched Buffy talk with some cute-looking football type. Not a bad one there, Buff, she thought, you could do worse. I'd do him. Of course, I've been lying on my back for the past eight months, and not in that fun kind of way.  
  
Faith reached down and felt the faint scar where the knife had gone in. Since she had woken up from the coma, she'd found out all the ways B had ruined her life. The one person who ever gave a damn about her was gone, eight months of her life were missing, and B was chatting it up with some college boy like nothing had happened.  
  
She gripped the strange device Richard had left her. She didn't know what it did, but he had wanted her to have it. And if it did something to Buffy, Faith would be happy to go for it.  
  
Buffy was now alone now, just walking along. Faith could tell B was lost in her own world, not paying attention like a Slayer ought to. Even on a sunny day like this. Now's the time to teach B a lesson in how a Slayer should act. She waited until Buffy passed the tree before she made her move.  
  
"Hey B, long time, no see."  
  
Buffy jerked backwards, shocked by the face which greeted her. When had Faith gotten out of her coma? "What are you doing here?" she demanded.  
  
"You didn't hear the news? You didn't kill me as good as you thought. I'm all woke up, as good as new." Faith threw out her arms and stretched. "Man, it feels good. Only one thing is gonna make this better."  
  
"Let me guess. You killing me?" Buffy shifted into full fight mode, dropping her books and stepping away, automatically balancing her weight in preparation.  
  
"Actually, I was going for the complete ruination of your life, but killing you works for me too."  
  
"I did not ruin your life. You did that on your own. All I did was try to clean up the mess you made."  
  
"So it's my fault you stabbed me? My fault I've been in a coma for eight months? My fault you killed the only person who ever gave a damn about me? Wow, B, that's bad. Even for you. But I forgot. Miss Perfect Slayer can never do anything wrong, can she? She's always right, always the hero," Faith mocked, circling Buffy.  
  
Buffy held her ground. "Can we skip the insulting banter and just fight already? You're boring me."  
  
"Too bad. You know, I was planning on killing all your friends first before I got to you, but then I found this." Faith brandished her new toy. "I don't know what it does, but I'm hoping for the melting of your flesh off your bones. What do you think?"  
  
"I think you should shut up and prepare to get your ass kicked."  
  
"I was hoping you'd say that."  
  
The two Slayers circled each other for a few moments, neither making a move. Then Faith finally rushed in and aimed a kick at Buffy's midsection. Buffy evaded the blow and tried for a punch of her own. They fought, sometimes striking, other times blocking. At first, Buffy had the upper hand. She was fitter and in condition, since she'd been up and about while Faith lay dormant. Buffy was able to get a few good blows in. But Faith was running on rage, her drug of choice. After she took a good hit to the face, Faith sent Buffy reeling backward with a one-two combination of her own. As Buffy tried to recover, Faith tackled her and sent the both of them falling to the ground. Seizing her opportunity, Faith clasped Buffy's hand and gripped tight, hoping whatever magic was held in the device would finish them once and for all. As a white-hot light enveloped them, Buffy managed to slam her fist against the back of Faith's head, knocking the other girl unconscious.  
  
As the world faded to black, Faith thought, Damn, and I thought it would work.  
  
***  
  
Faith opened her eyes.  
  
And realized several very important things. She was still outside lying on the path at U Sunnydale. The sun hadn't changed position, so she hadn't been out long. And most importantly - there was a body lying next to her, a black eye already forming. And the face surrounding that black eye was Faith's own.  
  
With slightly trembling hands, Faith reached back and pulled her hair forward. It was blonde, and a little crinkly. She sat up slowly, running her hands along her body. The chest was smaller and covered in a tank Faith never would have chosen, and the legs encased in a pair of blue jeans were the wrong length.  
  
Faith smiled like a cat that had eaten the canary. Her inheritance was better than she had thought it could be. No skins melting from bones for Buffy's body. No, this was even better. She now had Buffy's body.  
  
She stood up and debated what to do about the unconscious Faith-shape lying there. Chances were B had taken up residence inside that old skull of hers. Should she snap the neck now or wait? Faith thought a moment, then smiled. She had an even better idea. Get B's beloved Scoobies help her track down and catch that horrible, nasty old Faith and put her away, where she belonged.  
  
Faith gathered up the scattered books and smoothed down her brand-new hair before leaving to go see her Watcher like a good Slayer should, and tell him about that awful meeting with the rogue Slayer. 


	16. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen  
  
Note: Thanks to Chelle for the beta-job ^_^. And sorry this chapter's up later than intended – hopefully I'll get myself cracking and become more consistent about this update thing.  
  
***  
  
Faith stood on the patio outside a half remembered house and hoped that Giles hadn't moved in the past eight months. Setting her shoulders and putting on her very best 'I'm Buffy' face, she pushed the door open and headed in.  
  
"Giles! You won't what believe what just happened!" Faith marched into his living room, where she found the Watcher and Buffy's little friend, Willow. "Faith is out of her coma! We have to stop her!"  
  
Instead of the shock and amazement she had expected, Faith's pronouncement was met with only a sigh on Giles' part, as he turned to admonish Willow. "I thought you told her last night."  
  
Willow turned a very, very bright red to match her hair before muttering, "I, uh, forgot."  
  
At that, Giles made an annoyed clucking sound before turning back to Faith. "If Willow had told you like she was supposed to, you would have known that Faith has been awake since yesterday. I hope she didn't give you too much trouble?"  
  
"Of course not. I'm the good guy. I always win."  
  
"Yes, well, that's reassuring. Can you tell me the specifics of your encounter? How did Faith act? Where did she find you?"  
  
Faith sat down, sprawling out in a chair, legs akimbo. "Not much to tell. I was walking along, minding my own business like a good little Slayer when Faith came along, I kicked her ass, she turned tail and ran."  
  
"And Faith? How would you describe her?"  
  
Faith shrugged, but inwardly smiled. This was the perfect moment to start setting up dear old B for the fall. "I think she's lost it, Giles. She's a 100% guaranteed psycho."  
  
"When hasn't she been a psycho," Willow remarked. "I mean, check out what happened the last time. Teaming up with Mr.I-Wanna-Be-An-Evil-Demon and all? I'm just glad you're okay, Buffy."  
  
Faith's fists clenched involuntarily as she fantasized about driving a knife into the little witch's gut. Instead of acting out her fantasy, she faced Willow and said, "I'm glad too. Faith is a very bad person. We should track her down, make sure she pays for her crimes. She shouldn't be allowed to be free."  
  
That sounded appropriately self-righteous, Faith thought, as Giles and Willow nodded their heads in agreement. Feeling that her work there was done, she got up to leave. Spending the rest of the day with these losers when she'd just rejoined the big, wide world was not in her plan. There were so many other fun things to do. Maybe she'd start with Buffy's little beefcake boy. He looked doable. And dumb enough not to notice if anything didn't match up with Her Perfectness.  
  
"Well, now that I've done my Slayerly duty, I'm off to patrol."  
  
Giles looked up at her oddly. "It's the middle of the day, Buffy."  
  
"All the better to make the vamps go poof."  
  
"If you meet up with Faith again, she isn't going to go 'poof'."  
  
Faith pretended to think a moment, then shrugged. "Nah, I think it'd be more of a crunch."  
  
Giles pursed his lips at his Slayer's flippant attitude. "Be that as it may, I'd rather you not go looking for her alone. If she's as unstable as you've indicated, she will be exceedingly dangerous and – "  
  
"I can handle myself," Faith snapped before bolting.  
  
The two watched her go. Turning to his companion, Giles asked, "Did she seem out of sorts to you at all?"  
  
Willow shrugged. "Not particularly. I think I'll go try to talk to her."  
  
"I hope you don't forget, this time?"  
  
She reddened. "No, I won't." As she left, she muttered, "Buffy, you had so better spill all the juicy parts."  
  
***  
  
Willow caught up with Buffy halfway down the street. Her friend seemed to be making as if the not-so-proverbial hounds of Hades were at her heels. Finally at her side, Willow asked, "Did everything go okay last night? And you can be honest, we're away from Watchery hearing."  
  
"Last night?" Buffy frowned a moment, as if surprised by the question. "Sure. Went fine." She kept walking.  
  
"You are so not going to hold out on me like that," Willow teased gently. "I want details. 'Cause I ran into you two last night, and you guys were big with smoochies. C'mon. How far did you go?"  
  
"Oh! Smoochies, last night. Well, we, uh – that's not any of your business."  
  
Willow rolled her eyes. "We're roomies. I saw the both of you making like bunnies on Viagra. I discreetly left for Tara's and now want the scoop. So give."  
  
Buffy gave her a little smirk. "Bunnies on Viagra, huh? Surprised you didn't stay for the whole show; bet you could have learned a trick or two."  
  
"Not exactly my kind of tricks anymore, you know," she pointed out. "So – "  
  
"Tara's. Tricks." Buffy cocked her head, examining her.  
  
Willow fidgeted. What was up with mood-swing Buffy?  
  
Examination done, Buffy burst out laughing. "Never thought you would have had it in you, Will. You playing for the other team now?" She leaned forward, pursing her lips, "Wanna play with me?"  
  
Willow pulled back from her suddenly very freaky friend. "Buffy? What's up with up with you?"  
  
"Nothing is 'up' with me. I'm the Slayer. I'm always five by five. Maybe I'm just not interested in some lame girl talk, okay? Maybe that's why I'm not playing spill the beans. So why don't you go home and suck face with your little girltoy." With that, Buffy marched off, leaving Willow behind with a trembling lower lip and the strong feeling that something was wrong.  
  
As Faith strode away, she smirked. That might not have been in keeping with B's squeaky clean image, but the barbs were too easy to dig into the little witch's flesh. Payback was sweet. Now to go see what other fun things she could do. With any luck, she might find Mr. Bunny on Viagra for a round two. Beefcake boy, anyone?  
  
***  
  
Ow.  
  
As Buffy slowly regained consciousness, that was all she could think. Ow. Her head was throbbing. It reminded her of her cheerleading days, when the marching band would be blasting in their semi tuneful glory straight into her ear. That constant cacophony pounding on her skull.  
  
Buffy forced herself to ignore the obnoxious drumming as she opened her eyes. Where was she? Sitting on the campus path where she'd met Faith. Some time had passed since then, judging by how low the sun had sunk. Why was she here? Going out on a limb, Buffy would guess something to do with that device Faith had been holding. What had it done? Buffy had no idea. It obviously hadn't killed her – if she were dead, wouldn't she notice? And all body parts felt attached. In fact, barring the drumline and various aches and pains, Buffy would say she was fine.  
  
Now that she'd established the basics of the situation, Buffy decided she could risk standing. Carefully, since the world still had that annoying tendency to spin at the moment, she pulled herself to her feet. And looked down.  
  
And realized something was wrong.  
  
Buffy did not consider herself flat-chested by any means. She had a figure to be proud of and she knew it, based on the admiring looks she got. But these – Buffy reached up to cup them – definitely weren't hers. Too big. And the shirt covering them was the wrong one, too. And the hair that fell down, obscuring her vision, was darker than even her roots ever were. In fact.....  
  
It was Faith's. Everything was. The hair, the chest, the skanky shirt. It all belonged to the Queen Slut Bomb herself. Buffy bit her lip. So if she was in Faith's body, that meant –  
  
Faith was in hers. And doing god only knows what with it.  
  
Okay, she had to get her body back. Stat. Giles, here I come, and you had so better know it's me.  
  
***  
  
I want you, let's get married. Now I hate you, let's get divorced. Now I like you, let's go on a date. Let's have sex. Nope! Too fast. Let's slow down.  
  
Spike took a generous swig of his beer. Could she ever make up her mind? Talk about mixed signals. In all the time he'd known her, Spike had never seen the Slayer be remotely consistent in what she wanted.  
  
Except for punching him. She always seemed game for that.  
  
"Girl problems?"  
  
Spike looked up, saw the bartender standing there, a sympathetic expression on his face. He downed the rest of the drink and gestured for another, saying, "Yeah, I guess you could say that."  
  
The bartender handed him a fresh bottle. "Makes you wonder what we see in them, huh? None of 'em are really worth it."  
  
Spike grunted.  
  
"Though some come close," the bartender relented. He nodded towards the dance floor. "Like that chick over there. Guy might put up with a lot for the kind of good time she could give."  
  
Spike turned around to see who the bartender was pointing at. It was Buffy. Let's Slow Down Buffy. The same girl who's had second thoughts the morning after was dancing like she wanted a morning after with every guy in the place. A crowd of men and boys surrounded her, trying to get in on the action she promised with every movement of her body. Spike's lips tightened as he watched Buffy, his wife, dammit, lean forward to rub herself suggestively against one particularly drunk looking frat boy, only to allow another one to press himself against her back. The crowd around her hooted and made catcalls at the sight.  
  
His fists clenched, barely able to restrain the desire to rip the wankers to pieces and claim what was his. But obviously, judging from how she was acting, she wasn't his. He stood up, grabbed his beer, and made his way to a dark corner, planning on getting as drunk as possible. Guess their little chat this morning has made up her mind. To seize the day with anything with a dick. Why settle for one when she could have them all?  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Faith saw the punk rocker wannabe storm away. He intrigued her. The only testosterone carrier in the whole joint who wasn't panting like a dog over her. A pity. Blondie over there looked like a Grade A Hottie, even if he was a vamp. Faith's lips curved up in a wanton smile. No way was she gonna back down from a challenge like that. Pulling away from her pathetic, drooling admirers, Faith sashayed over to Hottie.  
  
"You'd make a girl feel lonesome, sitting here all by yourself," she purred.  
  
Spike glared at Buffy. What was she thinking, coming over here after she'd dry humped every guy in the place? "Slayer, get lost."  
  
Slight change of plans. He knew who she was. Or at least, who she was pretending to be. Faith put on her best Buffy smile and leaned over. "C'mon, don't you wanna play? Bet we could have a real good time."  
  
Spike felt the warning twinges of his chip as he fought for control. She's running hot now, all right, but hot for anything male. Growling, he asked, "You know what I hate about you sometimes, Slayer?"  
  
She smiled cheerfully and said, "I'm a stuck-up tight-ass with no sense of fun?"  
  
He smirked. "I wouldn't say that. You and I both know you can be reaall fun."  
  
Faith thrust her chest forward to display what goods Buffy had been blessed with as she said, "That I could do anything I want, and instead I choose to pout and whine and feel the burden of Slayerness?" She shrugged, "I mean, I could be rich. I could be famous. I could have anything. Anyone."  
  
Spike stared at this girl oddly. Something was wrong here. He could feel it, buzzing at the edge of his senses.  
  
Faith dismissed his confusion as that of a vamp wondering why the Slayer was coming on to him. In a sultry, seductive voice, she continued. "Even you. I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you pop like warm champagne and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more. And you know why I don't?"  
  
He watched her with interest, as it slowly dawned on him.  
  
She forged onward, mistaking his interest for the sexual kind. A perverse desire in her told her to tease him just a little bit more. Her glossy lips slowly forming the answer to her own question. "Because it's wrong."  
  
And then it clicked in Spike's head, as he stared into the girl's eyes. This wasn't his Buffy. Not only was she completely oblivious to the fact that he and the Slayer were married and had spent the last night together (which was quite the tip-off), her eyes were wrong. Buffy's eyes were full of passion and light.  
  
This one had passion. But it was the dark, dangerous burn that reminded him of Drusilla, an inferno that destroyed everything in its path. His Slayer's passion was tempered by experience, a steady flame in the hearth, full of warmth that reached out to encompass those she cared for.  
  
Faith leaned back, smiling at having riled up the vamp. One moment, she was savoring her victory, the next –  
  
"Let go of me before I stake you!"  
  
Spike only tightened his grip, just barely inflicting pain. "Who are you and what have you done with her?" he snarled.  
  
"What are you talking about?" she snapped. This shouldn't be happening! How could a lousy vampire recognize the truth? "I'm going to break you into pieces, you bastard!"  
  
He stood up, pulling her with him. "Tell me! What have you done to Buffy?" Spike shook her, desperate for answers. He was relieved that it hadn't been his girl playing the whore earlier, but now that he had realized something had happened to Buffy, he was terrified. "Tell me or I'll – "  
  
Spike never had a chance to finish the sentence. In his anger, he was shaking her so much the chip fired.  
  
"Aarghhh!" Spike let go, overcome with the sudden, incredible pain.  
  
Faith was no fool. She had no idea why the vamp was screaming in pain, but she took the opening and made a break for it, running out the door.  
  
After the agony had receded, Spike realized she was gone. He flipped a mental coin over tracking her or finding Giles and telling him what was happening. The Watcher won. Hopefully, he could get some answers. As he left, cold worry churned in his gut. Was Buffy still in there, only possessed by some sort of demon or witch? Or was she gone altogether?  
  
***  
  
Faith ran down the street. What the hell? She can pull off the act for Buffy's father-figure (admittedly brief it had been), Buffy's best friend (who had just assumed she was in a bitchy mood), but not for some vampire? She had to get out of here. Maybe she could fake her death, blame it on B. That could be very satis –  
  
Crash. Faith stumbled.  
  
"Buffy, are you all right?" a concerned voice asked. Faith looked to see Beefcake Boy himself, the one she thought was B's boyfriend.  
  
Faith straightened and slipped her smile on. "Oh, I'm fine." Leaning in slightly, she asked, "And how are you? I didn't hit you too hard, did I? Because that," she added flirtatiously, "would be awful."  
  
Riley blinked. Then blinked again. Buffy hadn't acted like this with him in months. "I'm, uh, I'm fine too."  
  
"Good." Faith smiled sweetly, holding that innocent expression for a beat, then another. Beefcake Boy responded with a goofy grin. He was interested. Without being obvious, she assessed him. Nothing like the hot hunk she'd just lost out on (she was still pissed about that – that was the first vamp she'd ever seen worth doing), but he looked like he could get the job done. She slid into his personal space slightly. Nothing overt, but enough to get the guy thinking.  
  
Riley was confused. Was Buffy coming on to him? "Buffy?"  
  
"That's me." Faith let her hand trail up and down his arm slightly, her eyes growing a little suggestive.  
  
"Are, are you," he blushed slightly, "are you flirting with me?" Then he stopped talking, clearly shocked with himself for asking such a thing.  
  
"Do you want me to be?" she asked with a smile. She almost had him.....  
  
"You know I've always liked you," he said honestly. "Even after I found out about you and Spike."  
  
"Spike?"  
  
He grunted. "You know, that bleached asshole of a vampire who insists he's married to you?"  
  
Oh. That Spike. Faith's eyes widened. Buffy was married? To a vampire? And not just any vamp. The one from the Bronze (which explained a lot). Huh. Live and learn. Things sure have changed. Will's a lesbian, B's married to a vamp that ain't Angel..... what was next, Xander's shacking up with some demon chick? Whatever. Adjustment of plans, here.  
  
"I have no idea where you got that idea. There's no way some vampire could compare to you," she purred. True. Spike was so far above this guy in the hotness scale, there really was no comparison.  
  
"But you said – "  
  
"I said what? That this Spike had my undying love? That we were together forever? If I did, I don't know what I was thinking."  
  
Riley preened a little. "Really?"  
  
"Really. Something was obviously messing with my mind if I thought, I, a Slayer, should be with my mortal enemy, a vampire. That's just..... wrong." Faith's lips forming the last word slowly, giving it the same caress she had earlier.  
  
"I knew you were better than that," Riley told her, overjoyed to hear Buffy say all the things he wanted her to, thinking all the things he wanted her to.  
  
"So now that we've cleared up my past stupidity, you want to go someplace quite and, maybe, talk a little?" The way Faith said, 'talk', implied anything but talking. Riley nodded, entranced by this seductive blonde beauty who seemed focused on him and only him, all his dreams coming true.  
  
"You and Spike are through?" he asked, hopefully.  
  
"Totally," Faith promised. "In fact, maybe you and I can stake him together. Sort of a joint project. But first," she whispered into his ear, "let's get reacquainted."  
  
Riley grinned. 


	17. Chapter Fifteen

Note: Thanks to Chelle86 for the help ^_^.  
  
Chapter Fifteen  
  
"Giles, I think there's something bothering Buffy."  
  
"So you've been telling me for the past three hours," Giles muttered, as he marked one more number off his list in the Finding Faith campaign. So far, he knew that no one remotely answering to her description had been seen at the bus station, train station, the Bronze, the Fish Tank (probably – he might ask Buffy to go in person and check for sure), and thankfully Joyce hadn't seen her, either. The last he'd politely asked to make herself scarce for the next few days, in case Faith got the wonderful idea of going after Buffy's mother.  
  
Which left him with no idea where the deranged Slayer was. Though he was tempted to join her, as Willow was once again obsessing over some little spat she had had with Buffy. While he did agree that she had been a little bit out of sorts earlier, he hadn't found Buffy's behavior to be particularly unusual. As much as he loved Buffy as though she was his own daughter, there was no denying that when the mood took her, she could be quite – what was the word? Ah, yes. Bitchy.  
  
" – It's just that she was being all avoidy and not in a let's-talk-later- way but in a get-lost-way. Which wasn't very nice because I was *so* covering for her last night. And to not – "  
  
"What were you doing for her?" Giles asked distractedly as he tried yet another possible lead.  
  
"Um, forget about that part. See? I'm doing it again." Willow jumped up out of her seat, sending papers full of possible Faith plans flying. "All I wanted was a couple details, nothing that juicy and she was all 'this is lame' and 'go back to Tara', except she was really mean in how she said it and – "  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Willow stopped mid rant to turn to Giles. "You're agreeing with me now?"  
  
Giles ignored her, as he listened to the description from the man at the campus security center. "Thank you for telling me. Two girls getting in a fight? Terrible, terrible thing. Are both okay? As far as you know? M- hm. And what did they look like? Yes, well thank you for your time. I hope you get that cleared up. Have a nice day."  
  
He hung up the phone as he got to his feet. "Faith was spotted on campus earlier today – "  
  
Willow rolled her eyes. "We knew that. How else did Buffy meet up with her? Doesn't mean she's there now."  
  
Giles slumped back into his chair, visibly deflated. "I forgot about that. Well, I guess we'll have to do this the old fashioned way and send out search parties. It's not like she's going to suddenly march in here."  
  
"GILES!"  
  
As Giles leaped to his feet, wary at the sudden appearance of the infamous rogue Slayer, he wondered to himself if there wasn't some cosmic force of irony at play in his life. But the thought was quickly pushed aside as he tried to figure out what to do. Faith was standing only a few feet away, her face bruised and her eyes burning. There was no telling what she was here to do.  
  
Unsure of how to treat her or what to say, Giles settled on the cautious acknowledgement. "Faith."  
  
Instead of attacking him, Faith simply stood there and met his eyes. "That's not me. Look, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I'm Buffy."  
  
Giles and Willow exchanged glances. Actually, yes, that did sound crazy. Willow started to focus her power as quietly as possible for some sort of defense spell.  
  
Faith noticed. "Will, you don't have to do that. I'm not going to hurt you, because I'm not Faith."  
  
"That's very hard to believe at the moment," Giles said, as he tried to sidle closer to the weapons chest. He was almost there.....  
  
"Giles, if I was Faith, do you think I'd be letting you anywhere near the sharp pointy stuff?" Faith inserted herself between him and his goal, holding her hands out to him. "Don't get all weapons happy on me. Just listen for a second. I am not Faith. I'm Buffy." She tried to take a step forward, but found herself stuck. She turned her head to see Willow put the last finishing touches on some sort of paralysis spell. "Was that really necessary?"  
  
Willow tried not to sigh in relief that her spell had worked as she answered. "Yes, I think it was."  
  
Giles stepped away from the bound Slayer, studying her. Of all the things he had thought Faith might do, coming here and declaring herself to be Buffy had not been one of them. "If you really are Buffy, you'll understand we have to take certain precautions."  
  
"Screw precautions," Buffy said as she struggled against invisible bonds. "If this is Buffy in Faith's body, then where exactly do you think Faith is right now? My body! Do you see where I'm going with this?"  
  
Willow went to stand next to Giles, arms crossed against her chest. "You mean we should let you go even though you look an awful lot like a psycho killer right now?"  
  
Buffy growled. "Yes! Faith's out there in *my* body doing who the hell knows what with it. She could be – "  
  
Whoever was currently speaking didn't get to finish the sentence.  
  
"WATCHER!"  
  
Spike came barreling in, skidding to a halt just inches away from a shelf of priceless books. Giles winced.  
  
"Something's happened to Buffy. I don't know what, but I think she might be possessed. We have to help her!" Spike gasped out. He'd run all the way here from the Bronze, his panic growing with every step. When Giles didn't jump up with the questions, Spike snapped, "Are you deaf? Buffy might be hurt!" Waiting for a response, Spike took stock of the situation. He recognized Giles and Willow, but the angry looking brunette..... he couldn't place her, but he was sure she looked familiar.  
  
"Who's that?"  
  
Giles flicked his eyes over to Faith? Buffy?. "That's what we're trying to figure out."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. "As I've been trying to tell everyone, *I'm* Buffy. Faith did some freaky thing that switched us. I got her body; she got mine. Now that we're all up to date, could we fix this little problem of FAITH HAVING MY BODY!"  
  
Spike peered at her. "Buffy?"  
  
"See? Spike believes me."  
  
"Which really isn't much proof. If you are Faith, you could very well have put Spike up to this," Giles remarked, ignoring the dirty look Spike shot him as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Faith said she was Buffy, and Spike agreed, though he really didn't trust Spike that much, but the real key was why would Faith lie about being Buffy? And exactly what did that make of whoever it was that looked like Buffy who was here only a few hours ago? He felt a headache coming on.  
  
Buffy was feeling equally frustrated. Of all people, she would have thought Giles would be able to tell it was her. He was like her father for crying out loud! The same went for Willow, too. Best friend and roomie here! But no, only Spike believed her. Hell, he knew some thing was up with the Buffy currently out there! And she so wanted to know what Faith did that made him figure it out. There was no way Buffy trusted her with anything boyfriend-like after the Angel incident.  
  
"Why can't you tell it's me?" she demanded.  
  
"Because you have no real proof," Giles pointed out. "And Faith is disturbed enough to possibly try this."  
  
Buffy had to concede a point there. "Okay, so ask me a question only Buffy would know."  
  
Giles frowned. Hmm, a question that only Buffy could answer......  
  
Willow, for the first time since this drama began to unfold, piped up. "If you are Buffy, what happened last night?"  
  
Buffy turned red. "Will!"  
  
Willow watched her reaction. It occurred to her that if Spike and Faith were in a big conspiracy, then Faith would know. But then she wouldn't be all blushy and embarrassed. No, she'd be rude and sneery and – just like Buffy was earlier.  
  
Willow smacked herself on the forehead. "Five by five!"  
  
Everyone stared at her.  
  
"Giles, remember when I said Buffy was acting all weird? See, earlier, when I was talking to her, or actually now I realize that it was Faith in Buffy's body, and I wanted to know about last night, she was all really vague and obviously lost and now that I think about it, the reason it seemed so weird to me was because that wasn't Buffy but Faith. Because they switched."  
  
"Now do you believe me?"  
  
Giles and Willow nodded in unison.  
  
"Sorry about the whole spell thing." Willow closed her eyes and muttered the correct couplet to remove the spell. "You should be good to go now."  
  
Buffy rolled her shoulders back, glad to be able to do more than turn her head.  
  
Spike laid a hand on her back before glaring at the witch. "You cast a spell on her?"  
  
"I thought she was Faith! And therefore psychotic and evil!"  
  
Giles blinked. This was confusing. "So, Faith is in Buffy's body, which is why Buffy acted so oddly earlier, and now Buffy is in Faith's body, and we have to find out how that happened and return everyone to the correct body. Am I following this so far?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then my only question is, exactly what did happen last night? You are all acting as if it was something important!"  
  
Willow stared at the walls. Buffy opted for the ceiling. Spike suddenly found his shoes to be fascinating.  
  
"Nothing important."  
  
"It wasn't anything special."  
  
"Hey – !" Spike glared at the Slayer, who glared meaningfully back, before mumbling, "I mean, I wouldn't know."  
  
Giles studied the three of them intently. They were hiding something from him. But finding out would take attention away from the issue here, which was finding Faith and making sure she was put back in her own body. Not to mention, with Faith loose in Buffy's body, the chaos she could wreak was a frightening thought, indeed.  
  
"Well then, if that's settled, Buffy, could you describe exactly how Faith switched your bodies?"  
  
***  
  
Faith lay on the bed in Riley's dorm, as he snored beside her. Well, that had been an entertaining five minutes. No wonder Buffy dropped him in favor of Spike. Satisfied that this little incident would screw things up nicely for B, she stood to leave, quietly gathering her clothing. As she slipped her shirt back on, Riley stirred. He opened his eyes to see the girl of his dreams trying to sneak away.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"Yeah?" Faith answered as she finished dressing, sliding her feet into the shoes. Man, those things were uncomfortable.  
  
"Why're you leaving?" Riley sat up, letting the sweaty sheets spill everywhere.  
  
Faith looked him over, wondering what would be the best thing to say. Should she give him the love'em and leave'em line or something else? On the off chance that she got de-switched, Faith opted for the something else.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, sitting next to him on the bed, "but if I stay out all night my friends might get worried." Faith rested a hand gently on his thigh. "I'll make it up to you, okay? I promise."  
  
Riley sighed. "I understand, but I don't want to let you go. You run off every time we get close, run off to *him*." From his tone, it was obvious to whom exactly *him* was referring to.  
  
Faith smiled. "Not this time. Tell you what, next time you see me, I'll have a nice pile of Spike ashes for you. That good enough?"  
  
Riley seemed slightly mollified. Faith leaned in close to him, putting on her best sweet and girlish face. "I don't want to lose this, Riley." She brushed her lips against his cheek. "I think I love you." She stood, leaving Riley with a stunned and ecstatic expression.  
  
Outside of his room, Faith smirked. Man, that guy was easy to play. The little bomb she'd just dropped will screw things up great should B get her body back. And if not? It's not like Faith cared. All she wanted now was to see how Mexico was this time of year.  
  
***  
  
Buffy sat slumped on Giles' couch, staring at the wall as she tried to process everything that had happened. Off in the kitchen, she could hear Giles, Willow and Tara (who'd been invited over due to magical expertise) discussing how to reverse the body switching spell. They told her this little problem should be figured out by the end of the night, if not sooner.  
  
Buffy sincerely hoped for sooner. It felt wrong, sitting here and seeing Faith's hands in her lap, Faith's face in the mirror. Not to mention, the worry that clenched in her gut over what Faith could be doing while wearing her own face. Was she going to get her own body back to find it wanted for murder? Because that would seriously be a Faith-like thing to do.  
  
Spike sat down next to her, his hand reaching out to rest lightly on her back, his expression concerned.  
  
And another thing. Spike actually had met Faith-while-Buffyfied. What had Faith done that had tipped him off? Giles and Willow hadn't noticed anything was seriously wrong, so how had Spike? Buffy started to panic. What if Faith had tried to have sex with him? What if she had had sex with him? She's skanky enough to do it and that would explain how Spike figured it out. What was worse, Faith screwing him and he realizing, or Faith screwing him and he not realizing?  
  
Buffy felt sick inside.  
  
"What's on your mind, pet?" Spike asked, noticing her face change from contemplative to disturbed. "You don't need to be worried about being stuck like this. The witches will fix this soon enough. Not that this body isn't without its charms," he joked, pretending to check her out, eyes lingering on her breasts (Okay, so that part wasn't pretending. But he was a healthy male and this *was* his wife, after a fashion). When Buffy didn't even respond with her usual knee-jerk cracks to any of his innuendoes, he started to get worried. "You all right?  
  
Buffy turned to him. "Spike, how did you know it wasn't me? When everyone else didn't?"  
  
Oh. So that's what she's fussing about. "I am your husband, after all. I'm supposed to know you best."  
  
"Spike, an honest answer, please."  
  
"Hey! That was honest. For me, anyway."  
  
Buffy mock-punched him. "Spike."  
  
"All right. A serious answer. Love, she didn't act like you. I mean, at first I thought it was you at the Bronze, but then she started talking to me and I realized that wasn't true. Didn't know who was behind the wheel, but knew it wasn't my Buffy."  
  
Buffy's lips quirked up at being called his Buffy before asking, "Did she hit on you? Kiss you?"  
  
He sighed. "Yes to the first, no the second. I figured out the truth right quick before she tried anything."  
  
"Oh." Buffy was quiet for a moment. "Were you the only guy she hit on?"  
  
Silence. In the kitchen, the two could hear the brains having a Eureka moment.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
He didn't answer. Inside, he was wondering if Buffy really needed to know about Faith's bitch in heat act.  
  
"Let me take a guess. Do the words slut, skank, or ho come to mind? I know Faith. You don't have to lie to me."  
  
Spike nodded. Buffy sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised."  
  
"She hadn't done anything serious with them," Spike offered. "I would have smelled it."  
  
Buffy wrinkled her nose at the thought of Spike being able to smell *that* sort of thing on anyone. "Ew! That's disgusting."  
  
"Hey, I thought knowing that would make you feel better."  
  
"No." Buffy reached out to hold his hand. "What makes me feel better is knowing that you knew it wasn't me. And that you were worried enough to run all the way to Giles to ask for help."  
  
"I couldn't let you stay body snatched, could I?" Spike pointed out, while smoothly using her little gesture as an excuse to swing his arm around her and hold her close.  
  
"We've got it!"  
  
Hearing the others coming, Spike quickly disengaged from Buffy, who then stood up to receive the news that would hopefully clear up today's episode of Tuesdays in Sunnydale. "What have you got for me?"  
  
"This." Willow brandished a device that vaguely resembled the one Buffy had seen in Faith's hands. "The way we figure it, you use this to put the whammy on Faith and presto! Everybody's back in the right body."  
  
Buffy took it gingerly and slipped it onto her hand. "Good. That's good. So all I have to do now is find Faith."  
  
Willow grinned. "We even got that covered. While I was working on that, Tara did a tracking spell. Faith should be somewhere on campus right now. If you hurry, you should catch up with her, no problemo."  
  
"Thanks Will."  
  
"You're welcome." As Buffy hurried to leave, Spike at her heels, Willow called after her, "Just promise me details when this is over!"  
  
"Sure!"  
  
After they left, Giles turned to her and asked, "Details?"  
  
"Long story. Maybe tell you later."  
  
***  
  
It didn't take long to find her. In fact, it was remarkably easy. With Spike helping her, Buffy found Faith only a few yards away from the spot where they had had Round One of the Switch.  
  
Faith spotted them the instant they saw her. She ran. Without a word exchanged, Spike sprinted after her and tackled her, careful not to hurt. He pulled her up and held her steady for Buffy to come and finish this.  
  
As Buffy approached, Faith arched up against the vampire and smirked. "I've got to tell you B, it was quite a shock to me when I learned you were doing a vamp. Not that I blame you. He's hot."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Faith tilted her head about. "No problem, Blondie. Of course," she mock- sighed, "you weren't exactly accommodating me. Had to look elsewhere for thrills."  
  
"Elsewhere?" Buffy demanded. "Where elsewhere?"  
  
"That's for me to know and you to find out." Faith surged forward and grabbed Buffy's hand. Bright white light engulfed them as the magic was activated. A few seconds later, Faith was back in her own body. With Spike still holding onto Buffy, she blew them a kiss and blasted out of there. Somewhere right now there was a train ticket with her name on it.  
  
Buffy (also back in her own body) and Spike untangled themselves and jumped to their feet, but Faith was gone.  
  
"Should we go after her?"  
  
"Probably. I know I want to. If only to find out exactly what kind of thrills Faith decided to have."  
  
Spike took a deep breath and growled. "Bitch could teach Angelus a trick or two about mind games."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The thrill was Riley. I can smell it."  
  
Buffy collapsed to the ground, a rush of violation and anger overcoming her. "Damn."  
  
***  
  
" – I'm so happy Buffy's finally come to her senses," Riley told his friends over breakfast that morning, for the twentieth time. "I knew a girl like that wouldn't let herself go for some animal."  
  
"That so?" Forrest asked, raising an eyebrow at Riley's proclamation. The way that girl played with him was shameful......  
  
"Yes, that's so." Riley nodded firmly, his heart bursting for joy that yes, he finally got the girl. Spike may have had her for the interim, but no matter. With Buffy's help, Spike would soon be in a cage or dust. And then everything would be perfect. *** Note the Second: There will be another chapter tying up some loose ends from this storyline before we move on. 


	18. Chapter Sixteen

Note - hanks to Chelle for beta'ing, her suggestions gave this chapter a much-needed boost  
  
Chapter Sixteen  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
Buffy ignored the concerned voice and stared up at the ceiling of her dorm room. You know, if you squinted funny at the paint swirls, you could make out the shape of a mermaid doing the tango with a shark. Or maybe it was an octopus. Buffy couldn't tell. Either way, debating that was easier than doing something crazy like dealing with the world. Paint swirls were so much easier to interpret than your own feelings.  
  
"Buffy, I've let you be all avoidy since you came in. Now it's spill time and you know it," Willow chided gently. "You'll feel better once you talk about it. I mean, body snatching is sorta big with the issue causing. And talking about issues makes issues better......or at least that's what they tell me......"  
  
Buffy rolled over, deciding that the paint swirls had nothing to do with underwater and instead made one big shooting star.  
  
"Buffy? This is the part where you start talking."  
  
"Do I haveta?" she whined.  
  
"Yes. You've gone through like the topsy turviest twenty-four hours ever."  
  
"Not *the* topsy turviest. Pathetically enough, I've had worse," Buffy remarked as she turned to face Willow on the other bed. "Of course, it's a close contest at the moment."  
  
Willow nodded sympathetically.  
  
"I mean, sending Angel to hell will probably hold the place as Worst Ever. And I really, really hope that never changes. But Faith's little game – " Buffy cut herself off abruptly, fists clenching as she thought of the other Slayer. Through gritted teeth, she said, "Faith's little game is running a close second."  
  
"Body switching does do that."  
  
Buffy let out a humorless laugh. "Faith didn't leave it at body switching. She didn't even leave it at playing skanky ho in the Bronze."  
  
"Omigosh, did she kill someone?" Willow asked, panicking.  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, that's good," she offered awkwardly.  
  
"She had sex with Riley instead."  
  
Okay, Willow wasn't expecting that. "You sure?"  
  
"Spike is. And I believe him. Not to mention, there are," Buffy's hand trailed up to a sloppy hickey marring her neck, "marks."  
  
"And you're sure those aren't 'marks' from any other extra-curricular activities?"  
  
"Yes," Buffy answered without hesitation. "The other ones, they, ah, they tingle." Her eyes got a distant look as she thought of the only thing that had gone right recently. Spike had offered to stay with her after the Faith incident, but she had refused. Mostly on account of the very real possibility that she would have given into his suggestion of finding Riley and punching the daylights out of him, just because she needed someone to punch.  
  
Willow got a gleam in her eye. This was a perfect segue into the question that had been burning in the back of her brain since the night before.  
  
"About those tingles......"  
  
"I thought we were still on a Faith is Evil rant."  
  
"We can go back to that. So. Spike and tingles?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
Willow settled herself in, eyes sparkling. "C'mon. Details."  
  
Buffy smiled a little. This switch into classic girl talk was just what she needed for the moment. "It was – wonderful. I mean, yeah, when we were under the spell we well, you know, but this was completely magic free. I mean, magic magic free. But there was still – "  
  
"Another kind of magic going on?"  
  
"Yes. Everything just felt......right. Like now was the time. Of course, I didn't feel the same way the morning after, but while we were together, it was perfect. Not to mention," Buffy added impishly, "Spike can be *very* creative."  
  
"Creative, huh? How so?" Willow teased.  
  
"I thought a lady isn't supposed to kiss and tell," Buffy teased back. "Though can I say that a century of experience? Definitely of the good."  
  
"So he's a keeper?"  
  
Buffy thought a moment. "I don't know if this is a forever thing, but even with the screwed up mess that is my life, I'd say that having Spike there is one of the better accidents that have happened to me. We'll see what happens next." Her eyes softened. "But I think it'll be good. When I was freaking out about going too fast, his libido's disappointment aside, it sounded like he was willing to slow down. Not in a bad way, but in an I- want-to-have-a-real-relationship way. And that says a lot for him."  
  
Willow nodded. "It does."  
  
They sat quietly for a moment.  
  
"You know you'll still have to talk to Riley about Faith."  
  
"I know. Not looking forward to that."  
  
***  
  
Buffy stared at Riley, standing across the room stacking students' papers. Psychology class was over and only a few stragglers were left behind chatting as they slowly migrated towards the door. At that moment, Buffy wanted to run and bury her head in the sand, pretending nothing had happened.  
  
As if sensing her friend's faltering courage, Willow gave her an encouraging push in the TA/Secret Agent Man's direction. Reluctantly, Buffy approached him.  
  
When Riley saw Buffy coming towards him, his face became covered in an enormous smile. "Buffy!" He moved to kiss her. "Buffy, I missed you."  
  
Buffy swallowed, avoided his lips, and imagined driving a spike into Faith's skull for making her do this. Or getting Spike to do it for her. "Riley, we have to talk."  
  
He nodded. "Sure."  
  
There was a pause. Buffy wondered what was the best way to tell an ex- boyfriend that the last time he saw her (and had sex with her!) she had been somebody else. There should be how-to guides on stuff like that. On the hellmouth, it could be a big seller.  
  
Riley noticed Buffy's awkwardness. She must be nervous, especially after her declaration of love last night. But it was okay. Soon she'd see how wonderful everything was going to be. All he had to do was explain it to her.  
  
"Buffy, last night was amazing. You have no idea how happy I am that you came to me like that. I'm so proud of you for breaking whatever sick hold he had over you," Riley said earnestly. "And I promise you that if you have any problems getting rid of Spike, I can help. The resources of the Initiative are at your disposal."  
  
Buffy cringed inside at his words. This was going to go even worse than she'd thought.  
  
Riley continued his speech. "We have a chance to build a relationship here. As soon as Hostile 17's out of the way, we can forget your lapses and really start something. Who knows? If Forrest's willing, maybe you could even move in with me, if that's what you want. I understand that you might want to wait a few months before that, but – "  
  
"Riley, I'm so sorry."  
  
"Sorry for what?"  
  
"Whatever you thought you heard me say or do last night, it wasn't me," Buffy tried to be as gentle as possible. "An enemy of mine did this spell – she switched our bodies. I looked like her; she looked like me – "  
  
Riley stared at her. "What are you saying?"  
  
"I'm saying that it wasn't me. It was someone who looked like me, sounded like me, but she wasn't me."  
  
"What? It was you." His expression crumpled for a moment, before becoming angry. Buffy really couldn't blame him. "You, you came onto me. Said you and Spike were through, that it was a mistake you were done with. We had sex! You, you," he paused, unable to speak for a moment. "You practically said you loved me!"  
  
"Riley, you have no idea how sorry I am about this."  
  
"It's always a spell with you, isn't it? Always some reason why whatever we share is meaningless. It's always nothing. In the end, I'm the idiot left behind as you turn around and go back to whoring for that vampire. You're still with him, aren't you?"  
  
"We're married."  
  
"It's not just that. It's not just some other spell gone wrong with him. With me, the spell's always an excuse to end it. Not with him. You want it. You want to give yourself to a demon. I can tell. You make me sick."  
  
"Riley – "  
  
"Don't. Just don't."  
  
He turned and left, leaving Buffy standing there alone, desperately wishing for something to kill. Preferably Faith.  
  
"How did it go?" Willow asked, as she quietly came up to her friend's side.  
  
"About as I expected. Turns out Faith didn't just screw him, she said she loved him."  
  
"Ouch."  
  
And the Understatement of the Year Award goes to Willow Rosenberg.  
  
***  
  
Riley stormed back to Lowell House, his gut churning with rage. At whom, he didn't know. A tiny, rational part recognized that this was the fault of Buffy's unnamed enemy. But in the maelstrom of emotions that swirled inside, that part was forgotten. To him, this was the last straw.  
  
Walsh had been pressuring him to turn in not only Hostile 17, but the Slayer as well. But no, he had argued with a superior officer on Buffy's behalf, saying that despite a lapse in judgement, she was still a good human. That even though she bound herself to a monster it didn't make her one as well. Hell, who knows. Maybe this whole roller coaster she'd taken him through has just been a game to screw with him. Demons did that, didn't they? Mock the mortals of the world.  
  
And when you got down to it, a Slayer must be like a demon. No real human should have that kind of power. Just like the witches and werewolves that the Initiative occasionally studied, Slayers had to be like them too.  
  
What did Walsh call them? Humanoid, but only just. Not the real deal.  
  
His anger and confusion congealed into a single mass of hate. To the Slayer who screwed him over and the demon who helped her do it. Maybe now was the time to take Walsh up on her offer.  
  
***  
  
Buffy had a funny déjà vu feeling. Once again, she found herself staring at the ceiling searching for patterns. And once again, it was easier than making sense of her life.  
  
Riley had been crushed by her revelation. Everything else Faith had done had been survivable, but her little encounter with him would screw things up for who knows how long. Buffy certainly didn't. She hoped he wasn't going to be correcting any of her tests any time soon.  
  
With a bit of luck, she could avoid him. Avoidance was always a good strategy when dealing with yucky problems.  
  
A niggling voice in the back of her head said avoidance wouldn't cut it. Some of Riley's speech – even if she had slept with him, chosen him over Spike (as if she would), would have bothered her.  
  
But now wasn't the time to worry about that. Her plate was full enough today and she hadn't finished digesting it yet, thank you very much. Buffy's plan was to spend the rest of the night digesting (aka vegging) in an effort to get her life under a semblance of control.  
  
As she lay there, finding pictures in the ceiling plaster, someone knocked on the door. Buffy sat up slightly. Willow had slipped off to get appropriate snacks and wouldn't knock on coming back.  
  
"Come in?"  
  
The door swung open, revealing Spike standing there, a pint of ice cream in one hand and a box of chocolates in another. He stood there uncomfortably a moment before crossing the threshold. "Red passed me in the hall and told me to bring'em up......" his voice trailed off uncertainly as he gestured at the food.  
  
"Oh. Thanks."  
  
He walked over, handing her the ice cream. Buffy ripped it open and started searching around for a spoon. Spike spied one and gave it to her, a smile playing on his lips as she dug in. "How are you?"  
  
"Better now that I'm back in my body. But still feeling crappy after trying to clean up Faith's little party-o-fun." Buffy ate a spoonful, not wanting to dwell on that. "Where's Willow?"  
  
"I think after she saw me coming along she decided to give us some private time." He shook his head slightly, chuckling.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just surprised one of your friends trusts you alone with me. Especially the one who I've actually threatened a few times before."  
  
"If it makes you feel better, Xander would freak if he knew."  
  
Spike settled beside her. "Thanks." He produced a spoon of his own and stole a bite. Buffy mock glared at him and punched him in the shoulder. "So, what fascinating things are you – " Spike broke off, noticing a distinctive gleam on her left hand. He reached out and captured her wrist, fingers lightly caressing the golden band. "When did this come on?" he asked quietly.  
  
She smiled. "This morning. I don't know yet if it will stay on, but as long as we're married, I think I'll keep it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You recognized me when no one else did. I think that's reason enough to admit I'm married, right?"  
  
He nodded and placed a gentle kiss right above the ring, his tongue dancing a quick pattern on her skin. "Good enough for me."  
  
Buffy blushed and pulled her hand away. Spike let her go.  
  
"So," he said after a moment, "what are you doing to entertain yourself?"  
  
"Not much. Just staring at the ceiling and seeing if there are any pictures in the plaster," Buffy admitted.  
  
"If you're that bored, luv, I know some games we could play," he said with a wink.  
  
"Spike, do you ever think of anything besides sex?"  
  
"Who said I was? You're the one seeing all these innuendoes," he teased.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Only 'cause you put them there."  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did to."  
  
The two were practically in each other's face, eyes flashing with the fun of a good fight.  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did to."  
  
"Did to."  
  
"Did not – hey!" Buffy scowled, realizing her slip.  
  
Spike leaned back with a smirk. "I win."  
  
She relaxed against him, muttering, "Did not."  
  
Spike let it go. They sat there a moment, just cuddling. Then Buffy started pointing out her mermaid and shark dancing in the plaster. Of course, Spike saw something completely different.  
  
"Where are you getting an elephant from? Can't you see the mermaid's tail?"  
  
"At least I can see, as opposed to some people, Slayer."  
  
"Yeah right, you elephant spying vampire."  
  
And the argument continued, the playful banter going back and forth. Neither would have it any other way. Peaceful cuddles were okay for a little while, but no fun in the long run. What they needed was the zip and zing of a proper match. 


	19. Interlude

Interlude  
  
"The subject's responses to external stimuli are most intriguing. There appears to be little or no reaction to heat or silver, as is the case for most subterrestrials. However, recent tests have indicated an aversion to substances made of – "  
  
Walsh hit the pause button on the recorder as someone entered her office. Dictating her notes on Hostile 42 would have to wait. It seemed that Agent Finn found it fit to interrupt her studies.  
  
"Finn, explain yourself," Walsh ordered, coolly assessing her most valuable, and most unstable, agent. He had planted himself directly in front of her desk, eyes forward and body taut. "You better have a good reason for disturbing me."  
  
"We spoke earlier about recapturing Hostile 17 and possibly the Slayer, ma'am. At the time I informed you it was against our interests to take her. I have since reconsidered." Riley paused, then added, sharply, "ma'am."  
  
Walsh leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking slightly from the movement. So he had changed his mind regarding the Slayer. If the rumors were true, she knew why, but it would be interesting to hear his spin on this. "You told me the Slayer was on our side, Agent. What's changed?"  
  
Riley grew even more rigid. "I realized she was no better than the HSTs she claimed to fight. It is our duty to stop her." In an outburst of passion, he added, "She sleeps with a vampire. A vampire! What kind of human would do that?" Pause. "Ma'am."  
  
Walsh had wondered when he would reach that conclusion. It had only really been a matter of time. The rogue Slayer's actions (yes, she had heard of the other one's appearance) were just what were needed to push him to the breaking point. A bit of manipulation here, a touch there, and Finn finally realizes the difference between his beloved Slayer and the rest of humanity. Namely, that the Slayer wasn't. That was the delightful aspect of these black-and-white world soldiers. Introduce them to a hint of gray and they fall back on their basis for existence. It was so perfect, Walsh wished she had planned it herself. Unfortunately, she had been unable to contact this Faith during her tenure in Sunnydale. A pity. Faith the Vampire Slayer sounded so much more amenable to the sort of things Walsh would like to have a Slayer for.  
  
Oh well. Best not to mourn lost opportunities. Instead, focus on the present ones.  
  
"Agent Finn, what do you propose we do with this problem?"  
  
He answered unhesitatingly. "Capture and kill the hostile. Capture the Slayer and ensure she does not continue to endanger the human population."  
  
A good start. Now to test the depths of his convictions.  
  
"An excellent plan. I'll add only one thing. Be sure to capture the hostile alive. Its relationship with the Slayer, whose future designation will be," Walsh checked her notes, "Hostile 95, is what currently makes it more valuable than the other HSTs we have like it. I want to perform tests on both Hostiles 17 and 95. So they must be taken intact and with little damage."  
  
Walsh waited to see how Finn reacted to this. If he still harbored any weak feelings to Hostile 95, he would balk at it undergoing any tests. He had overseen enough of them to realize what they entailed for the subject.  
  
"I understand, ma'am."  
  
He hadn't even blinked. Walsh was pleased. How far her boy had come!  
  
"Good. Now have a seat, Agent, as we prepare to take down these two dangerous threats."  
  
Finn complied. Walsh leaned forward as she began to dictate exactly how she wanted this mission carried out.  
  
***  
  
An hour before sunrise, Spike headed home with a satisfied smile on his face. Buffy and he had spent the night together. Not in the way he would have preferred, per se, but enjoyable nonetheless. They had simply cuddled together, talking. And arguing. Then arguing some more. Mostly about little things, like the merits of Monty Python (Spike was shocked to hear Buffy call it 'stupid') or the best way to make hot chocolate (Buffy thought Spike was being snobbish about refusing to drink instant).  
  
Suppressing the desire to whistle like some fool in a golden age musical about rain, he walked into his crypt, ready to get a good day's sleep.  
  
"Finally! Do you know how long I've been waiting for you?"  
  
At the sudden, shrill noise, Spike vamped out and spun around, searching for the source.  
  
And found it in Anya.  
  
She was perched on the edge of the sarcophagus, an expectant expression on her face. "I've been waiting for six hours. It's very boring. Xander refused to come so I could pass the time by having sex in a graveyard. Cosmo says that sex in unusual locations heightens the pleasure. All I've had to entertain myself is watching your TV. You should buy a new one. The reception is very bad. All I can get is an infomercial on hair care products."  
  
She gestured at the television, quietly blaring the charms of Insta-Hair. Apparently, for only 19.95 (paid in monthly installments), you could have luxurious locks like the model.  
  
Spike blinked. Still in vamp face, he demanded, "Anya, why are you here?"  
  
Anya stared at him as if the answer was obvious. "To discuss the current state of your relationship with Buffy. Xander told me that Willow told him that Buffy had switched bodies with the evil Slayer Faith and then they switched back. How do you feel about that? The self-help books Xander makes me read on humanity say you should be very aware of your feelings."  
  
Spike edged away slowly. He was too tired to deal with Anya. "I feel fine. Go home."  
  
Anya jumped off the sarcophagus but didn't otherwise move. "I've sat in an unpleasantly cold and somewhat damp tomb for six hours. I *will* be compensated with information."  
  
"Sorry. No can do. Don't let the door hit you on the way out." Spike jumped onto the thankfully Anya-free sarcophagus and lay down, closing his eyes.  
  
Anya remained standing there. "You still haven't replaced your door. You should. It creates very uncomfortable drafts."  
  
Spike pretended he didn't hear her and tried to sleep.  
  
"Are you avoiding me because you do not want to confront your issues? That is what the self-help books say. And they should be correct. Otherwise I have lost a great deal of money on an item of unequal value."  
  
Self help books should be outlawed, Spike decided.  
  
"Where were you? Were you in a bar getting drunk? Xander has informed me that you drink when you are feeling depressed. I think he's right because I often see you drinking when you are mooning over Buffy."  
  
Spike shot up. "I do not moon over Buffy!"  
  
"Of course you don't," Anya soothed patronizingly, "you simply imbibe large amounts of alcohol while brooding about your relationship with Buffy."  
  
"I don't brood either!" he insisted.  
  
"As long as you believe that. So," Anya reseated herself next to him, "if you were not growing inebriated in a bar, what were you doing?"  
  
Spike sighed, realizing Anya was not budging until he satisfied her curiosity. Bloody annoying bint. "I was with Buffy."  
  
She waited patiently for more, her eyes watching him intently. "Were you sharing orgasms?"  
  
Spike devoted a moment marveling the intensity of Anya's focus. Next to her, he sometimes felt positively celibate. No, wait. As long he was taking things slow with Buffy, he was celibate. "No."  
  
There was a pause as Anya processed the idea of not having sex. For a vampire to do that was impressive, she decided. "So what did you do?"  
  
He shrugged. "Talked. Argued. Discussed ways to kill that bitch Faith. Tried to convince her to apply same to Riley."  
  
"Why?"  
  
A growl. "Faith fooled 'round with Captain Cardboard while on the Buffy Express."  
  
"So there is something bothering you!" she accused.  
  
"I'm not upset or anything," he protested. "Well, not with Buffy. Not her fault or anything, y'know? Sort of thing I might of cheered on, back in the day. It's just that Buffy talked about explaining this to Riley. Doesn't sound like he took it too well. I think there might be trouble."  
  
"Does Buffy agree?"  
  
Spike gave her a Look. "We're talking about a *perfectly upstanding* human here."  
  
Anya nodded sympathetically. "Buffy does favor humans over demons, doesn't she? But I thought she was in the vengeance stage of her relationship with Riley."  
  
"Not really. She says it's just over and that's that. Trick is, I think he's not as civilized about it."  
  
She thought a moment. "Males do have strong vengeance tendencies. They're not as creative in my experience, but I have seen some work out a good vengeance."  
  
"I'm going to take that as a you agreeing with me." Spike leaned back with a sigh. "Only good thing out of this is that she's wearing my ring now."  
  
"That is an encouraging sign, though highly backwards. Woman should not be made to be seen as property of men."  
  
"And the patron of scorned women live," he muttered as Anya continued talking.  
  
"Though I'm not sure that would be for the best. Public admittance of a new relationship often increases the level of vengeance."  
  
"Thanks for the thought."  
  
"You're welcome," Anya said perkily.  
  
"Will you leave now?"  
  
Anya considered it. "No."  
  
Spike wished he had a pillow to pull over his face. Maybe he should invest in a bed. Hey, that's a good idea. Give him a place to bring Buffy. Lost in thoughts of Buffy + Bed, he easily zoned out the rest of Anya's cheerful babblings 


	20. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen  
  
"As I'm sure you have all done the reading, I won't go into detail, but......"  
  
Buffy struggled to focus on Professor Walsh's lecture. She hadn't been able to sleep after Spike had ended their little cuddle session. Instead, she had simply lain awake in bed, missing the comforting body that had been beside her. While it had been wonderful to just sit and talk, her body was currently telling her quite loudly that it needed some rest.  
  
And that a boring, incomprehensible psychology class was just the place for a nice nap.  
  
Buffy felt her head nodding, drifting lower and lower until it practically rested on her notebook. Just as she was about to give in, she noticed Professor Walsh was giving her a funny look. Uh-oh. Sleeping in the class of a teacher known as a heinous bitch = bad idea. Buffy sat up straight with a jolt.  
  
However, no matter how interested in the lecture Buffy tried to seem (and she felt she was giving an Oscar worthy performance), Walsh still kept glancing her way. And giving her a funny look. Not majorly get-out-of-my- face funny, but just sort of freaky-staring-could-you-look-somewhere-else funny.  
  
Huh. Whatever. Buffy shrugged off the weirdness (face it, on the hellmouth scale of weirdness, strange looks from your professor were low on the list), and went back to taking notes. Of course, her notes were less note-like than doodle-like. But doodling at least makes you look like you're busy.  
  
By the time class was over, she had a page of little hearts, all with stakes labeled Buffy + Spike sticking through them. As Buffy stood to leave, she ripped it out and tossed it into the waste basket. No way was she keeping that around for her friends to see. Or worse, Spike. He'd never let her hear the end of it.  
  
***  
  
Walsh watched Ms. Summers leave the lecture hall, observant eyes noting the discarded paper. She withheld a sigh. One more strike against the Slayer. Not only was she a paranormal and therefore slated for capture, but the girl didn't even pay attention in class. Shameful. It's a wonder that a fine, upstanding young man like Agent Finn was attracted to her in the first place.  
  
Then she noticed exactly *how* Finn was watching the retreating figure. Specifically, the retreating figure's swaying backside. Walsh suppressed another sigh. Men. It always amazed her they ruled the world.  
  
"Follow her." Finn nodded sharply and began to move after the hostile. Before he was gone, Walsh reminded him, "Remember, this is a fact finding mission only. Do not attempt to capture the hostile just yet. Understand?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
Riley moved to catch up with Buffy. On the way out the door, he spotted Buffy's discarded drawing out of the corner of his eye. He picked it up and stared a moment at the silly, romantic doodlings. Then he proceeded to rip it into little pieces. Buffy and Spike. Not if he could help it.  
  
***  
  
Buffy walked back to her dorm, hoping to get a quick cat nap in before patrol tonight. She seriously needed it after staying up so late with Spike. Mmm, Spike. Hey, maybe she could invite Spike to patrol with her. A vamp is a good thing to have around, right? And of course she would have to extend her patrol route to contain that little restaurant with the super- size ice cream sodas. Now that she thought about it, it was definitely looking kind of shady. Who knew how many evil, bloodsucking vampires also had ice cream soda cravings?  
  
At this thought, Buffy's steps picked up a little skip as she continued to make her way back to the dorm.  
  
***  
  
Riley tried to keep the hostile in his sights, following as close as he dared. It wouldn't do for him to be spotted by her. His entire focus was on that single target. On the bitch who had been screwing with his mind and heart for the past few months. Saying yes to him while having that, that *vampire* on the side. Proclaiming herself a hero when she was no better than the very scum he hunted every night.  
  
He hoped Walsh would allow him to watch the testing. On *both* hostiles, Slayer and vampire. He'd make that bitch see you couldn't treat a human like that. Couldn't yank them around and expect them to smile as you dirtied yourself with a demon. Because all that made you was another demon for him to hunt down.  
  
Riley's fists clenched as he thought about what was coming for Bu – no, Hostile 95. So caught up in his vengeance was he, Riley ignored everything that wasn't his target until –  
  
"Watch where you're going!"  
  
Riley collided with a pretty brunette, causing her to drop her bag and spill her books everywhere. She bent down to pick them up, all the while glaring at the jerk who'd just smacked into her.  
  
"Are you blind or something? Because seriously, how else could you run into me? There's plenty of room here for the both of us!" The brunette carefully picked up her scattered possessions. "I'm lucky you didn't hurt me, the way you were going."  
  
Under the onslaught of her glare, Riley started stuttering his apologies while trying to help her gather her things. "I'm sorry, I didn't even see you." He brushed dirt off a stack of papers and handed them to her, giving his best forgive-me-I'm-cute smile.  
  
That backfired. "What, is this sort of lame pick up line? Get a life, loser." She made the appropriate L sign with her hand, then turned it into a more obscene gesture. Riley started stuttering even more apologies as the girl snatched her papers away and stormed off. Before she was gone, he heard her mutter (quite loudly), "Jackass."  
  
After she had gone, Riley stood still for a moment, trying to remember in which direction the hostile had been heading. Unfortunately, he had forgotten. Bitch was safe, for now. He turned to report his failure to Walsh. She wouldn't be happy.  
  
***  
  
Following a refreshing three hour nap, Buffy stood in front of her closet and debated what to wear for patrol. There were so many choices.  
  
First there was her cute red tube top. But it looked like it might be a little cool tonight, so maybe something with sleeves would be good. Buffy reached in and pulled out a v-neck three quarter sleeve shirt (also red) and debated on that. Unfortunately, the fabric tended to snag on well, everything. She dropped that option and started rifling through the clothing rack for something better.  
  
No. Not that one, too plain. The discard pile grew. That one was too sexy – this was patrolling, after all (yeah right, tell yourself another one, her bad voice whispered, give in and go sexy!). Buffy decided to give in and picked up the discarded tube top. If she got cold, she could bully Spike into lending his coat.  
  
Next step – skirt vs. pants. Khaki vs. black leather. Cute vs. sexy. Aah! Too many choices!  
  
While Buffy frantically searched for the perfect outfit to patrol/date Spike in, Willow entered the room.  
  
"Going somewhere?"  
  
At the sudden noise, Buffy jerked up, her head hitting the closet ceiling. "Ow!"  
  
Willow scurried over. "You okay?"  
  
Buffy leaned against the wall, rubbing the injured spot. "I've had worse. Way to go stealthy, Wills. Taking lurk lessons from Spike?"  
  
"Nah. You're the one who's big with the Spike togetherness lately." Willow took in the disorganized pile of clothing strewn all over the room. "Date tonight?"  
  
"Date? Uh-uh." Buffy quickly hid the red shirt behind her back. "No dating funness for Buffy. Just patrol."  
  
"And you often turn the room upside down for the perfect patrolling outfit?" Willow raised her eyebrow as Buffy started fumbling for words. "Buffy, I know about you and Spike. So the being all secretivey about dating him? Big with the pointlessness. Unless, you know, you like being secretive. In which case I can pretend you *don't* look like you're going out to have the smoochies with Spike."  
  
"But I'm not!"  
  
Willow stared at her.  
  
Buffy shrugged. "Well, I will patrol," she tried to defend herself. "I'll just bring Spike along with."  
  
"And the smoochies?"  
  
She smiled. "Maybe. We are married, after all," Buffy added with a wink. Willow smiled back. "So, important question – what to wear?"  
  
Willow studied her friend a moment before saying, "Red shirt, black leather pants, boots with slight heels. Sexy-but-practical."  
  
"Good advice."  
  
***  
  
Walsh sipped her coffee and watched the viewscreen. A 'random electrical maintenance' check on the dorm had ensured that a small camera was secreted in the room of Buffy Summers and Willow Rosenberg. If she wanted to do this properly, she would have to send a team back to install an audio transmitter, but she was a bit pressed for time as is. Her desire to capture and begin testing on Hostiles 17 and 95 was hard to suppress. Once some preliminary information had been gathered, then the teams would be sent out.  
  
Another sip. Walsh grimaced slightly at the taste and made a mental note to ask the supply office for more sugar. It appeared that Hostile 95 was discussing something with Rosenberg. Walsh calculated the odds of it involving the relationship with Hostile 17 at 94.7%, given the presence of clothing suitable for a romantic encounter scattered about the room. Was Summers planning on meeting her vampire later that night? That would be ......useful. If she could gain information on their interactions in their natural habitat, she would begin to fulfill her primary goal with this pair.  
  
Hostile 95 was beginning to change into the selected outfit while Rosenberg made herself scarce. Walsh overheard a quick intake of breath from behind. She flicked her eyes over at Agent Finn, returned from his abortive tracking of Hostile 95. He was a good soldier, but sometimes lacked a certain creativity. Namely, the inability to simply go to the dorm and wait for Summers to show after losing sight of her.  
  
Hmm. Should she allow him to continue tracking Hostile 95 or give the task to more experienced personnel? A difficult decision. It was obvious that Finn was rather obsessed with the Slayer, which meant his morale would increase if he was allowed to continue. However, a degree of stealth and inventiveness were needed to properly complete the mission.  
  
Walsh turned her head to observe Agent Finn. His eyes were focused on the hostile, who was currently slipping into a scandalously tight shirt. Her lips pursed in disapproval, both at the outfit and her agent's behavior. The sight made up her mind.  
  
"Finn, I want you to lead tonight's sweep of the area. Behave as usual and avoid contact with the designated hostiles unless necessary."  
  
"But this is *my* job!" Finn protested hotly. "Mine. You can't let some – "  
  
"I wasn't aware this was a democracy," Walsh snapped. "Your orders are to patrol. Understand?"  
  
Finn watched the now fully dressed hostile leave the room before gritting out, "Yes ma'am."  
  
"Good. Complete this simple assignment successfully and I might return control of the hostile captures to you. Dismissed."  
  
He nodded slightly, turned about, and marched out of the office. Walsh sighed. Finn was acting more volatile than expected. The matter of Buffy Summers needed to be addressed as soon as possible; she couldn't allow for repeats of this sort. The best thing would be to put a more qualified officer on the job. Walsh hit the intercom button.  
  
"Agent Gates to my office. Now."  
  
An excellent choice, she told herself. Gates had just the right touch for jobs like this.  
  
***  
  
Buffy slipped out of the dorm just after sunset, dressed to kill (literally and figuratively). She'd taken Willow's advice and gone with the red shirt and pants. A search through her closet had turned up a pair of boots with just enough heel to make her legs look good.  
  
Spike was definitely going to sit up and pay attention, she thought with a satisfied smile.  
  
***  
  
Forrest watched Hostile 95 leave. He counted to ten, then followed. It pleased him that Walsh and Finn were finally taking action against the Slayer. To let an unauthorized paranormal free reign went against the natural order of things.  
  
With a stealthy grace, he tracked the hostile to whatever destination it had in mind.  
  
***  
  
It wasn't long after Anya had finally left that Spike had succumbed to sleep. Long lazy dreams of him and the Slayer had visited him, delicious images of kisses and so much more flowing through his mind. Now he slowly woke up, his internal clock sensing the setting sun. The last dream had been particularly pleasurable, involving a giant feather bed and the creative use of silk scarves.  
  
Spike took in a deep breath, enjoying the dream echoes of Buffy's scent that still lingered. His eyes snapped open the instant he realized the smell wasn't as much an echo as a loud sound in his ear.  
  
Buffy was standing right there, shouting his name.  
  
"Spike? You awake? Spike?"  
  
"If I wasn't awake, I would be now," he grumbled while rolling easily to his feet. "Can't you turn it down a little? No need to shout."  
  
"I wasn't shouting," she protested, "I was just getting your attention."  
  
"By shouting."  
  
Buffy opened her mouth to argue then shut it. Spike took advantage of the silence to stumble over to the refrigerator and snag some blood. She followed and continued the argument, only this time changing tactics.  
  
"So what if I was shouting? It's after sunset. You should get up anyway."  
  
Spike snorted as he poured a glass. "And I'm sure you're just *thrilled* when someone wakes you up at the crack of dawn. Have to remember that. Maybe I'll come by tomorrow – when's sunrise? 'Round five o'clock or so?"  
  
Buffy was unable to come up with a good comeback. She pouted instead. Then wrinkled her nose when she realized just what his version of a morning pick-me-up was.  
  
"Is that blood?"  
  
Spike gave her a 'duh' look.  
  
"It looks disgusting."  
  
Spike downed the glass quickly and grimaced. "It is. Unfortunately, I can't exactly be drinking the good stuff right now, can I?"  
  
"Which is a good thing. If you were back on the Happy Meals with Legs diet, I'd have to kill you."  
  
Spike set the empty glass down and turned towards her. "You know I'd win if it came to – " he finally noticed what she was wearing, "– that." Spike was silent for a moment, lost in appreciation for the tight red shirt and tighter pants. He quickly began to make calculations on the best way to remove them the instant the opportunity occurred.  
  
Buffy smiled. Willow wins the dress your Buffy doll contest tonight, she decided, given the gleam in Spike's eyes. She decided to allow him a few more seconds of ogling before sashaying away. Over her shoulder, she told him, "Spike, you're welcome to your delusions, but *I* would win."  
  
"You would not!" he finally responded, after his mind left the happy place that tight pants + sashay equaled. "Practically beat you the first time, didn't I?"  
  
"But you didn't."  
  
"Only because your mother whacked me a good one with an ax," Spike pointed out. "Otherwise you'd be one dead Slayer right now."  
  
"Then it's a good thing she came along when she did, o husband of mine."  
  
"True, o wife of mine," he mimicked. They shared a smile. A split second later, Spike added, "But that still means I would win."  
  
Buffy decided the best retort was to stick out her tongue. Spike wished he were close enough to take advantage of the come-on. He slowly started to walk towards her.  
  
"Tell me, love, why'd you stop by tonight?"  
  
Buffy shrugged, a little too casually. "Thought you might like to patrol."  
  
"I might," Spike answered, just as casually. "But that can't be the only reason. You don't get so dressed up to patrol with Xander, do you?"  
  
"Sometimes I do."  
  
Spike was almost upon her. "Bet Anya wouldn't be too keen on that," he teased.  
  
"She told me I could if I would be willing to experiment with a threesome," Buffy told him with a straight face.  
  
"Hope you turned her down," he told her, now standing mere inches away. "I like to have you all to myself." He bent slightly to steal a kiss.  
  
Only to find himself spinning as Buffy grabbed him and pinned him to the wall.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Buffy's lips brushed his ear. "See? Told you I would win." She released him with a giggle, quickly turning to sprint out of his crypt.  
  
Spike recovered and chased after her. "Slayer, you cheated!"  
  
She called back, "Did not!"  
  
"Did too! You used your feminine wiles on me!" Spike shouted as he followed her. Buffy only laughed and kept running. Neither of them ran at top speed; the chase was for fun only. Buffy fully intended to get 'caught' – but only after she decided. Spike fully intended to 'catch' her –just before she decided. They scampered through the cemetery a bit, Buffy letting Spike get close, only to sprint again.  
  
Spike was about ready to put in a burst of vampiric speed when a sharp crackle ripped through the air. The two stopped as one and dropped into a warrior's stance. Game over, Buffy gestured Spike to follow her to find out what was going on. Slowly and quietly, they crept along.  
  
And came to a clearing where several Initiative boys were bagging a demon. Buffy didn't recognize its species – loose pale skin with floppy ears. As they dragged a net around it, Buffy almost felt sorry for it; it didn't look that dangerous. But you never could tell with demons. While she stood and watched, Spike tugged urgently at her arm.  
  
"They got Clem," he murmured, nodding at the captured demon.  
  
"And Clem is......?" Buffy whispered back.  
  
"Friend of mine. Plays a good hand of poker, even if he cheats a bit."  
  
"You know I can't just go rescue your evil demon friends just because they're your friends."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to growl. "How about this then? Clem's not a danger to anybody. Well, except for the odd kitten or two."  
  
"Then why is the Initiative taking him?" Buffy asked, but she was already moving to intercept them, willing to give Spike the benefit of the doubt.  
  
"Do you really have to ask?" Spike muttered. He was surprised Buffy hadn't figured out yet that the Initiative wasn't too picky on who they kidnapped.  
  
Buffy stepped into the clearing. Deciding the best thing would be to *not* pick a fight with the men with the big shiny guns, she simply cleared her throat and said, "Hey guys, I think you've got a bit of a mistake going here."  
  
The Initiative soldiers dropped their prey and brought weapons at ready as the new threat presented herself. Buffy held up her hands in the classic 'no trouble here' gesture.  
  
"Now, I know you don't want to go around performing experiments on the non- evil members of the population, so could you just leave the poor guy alone?"  
  
Spike emerged from the brush beside her. He was tempted to say something, but decided it would be best to see how Buffy handled it. Soldier boys would be more likely to listen to her, anyway. Though something was bothering him –  
  
One soldier stepped forward, a quick gesture with his rifle telling the others to stand down. Riley. Spike tried not to snarl.  
  
"Buffy," Riley said tersely, the barest of acknowledgements. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Trying to get a friend out of trouble," Buffy responded pleasantly. Okay, so this Clem guy wasn't exactly a friend. But somehow she had a feeling that saying he was Spike's friend would make this worse.  
  
"Your 'friend' is a demon," he retorted. Riley felt his lip curl up in disgust. Hostile 95 fraternized with all kinds of disgusting creatures, he realized. He started to scan the area forhidden allies of the hostile. Now was an excellent opportunity to capture both Hostile 95 and 17, regardless of what Walsh wanted.  
  
Spike noticed Riley's actions and tensed, preparing for battle. However, Buffy was oblivious to the subtext and continued her argument.  
  
"I sort of noticed. But he's a good demon, so it doesn't matter." Actually, Buffy wasn't too sure about the existence of good demons. But she didn't think this one was exactly evil, either. Now that she thought about it, she'd seen him in Willy's before. He never caused her any trouble (and most of Willy's regulars had, at one point or another).  
  
"A good demon." Riley's tone conveyed all the disbelief he felt. "I don't think so." He motioned for the men to pick up the still unconscious Clem.  
  
Buffy sighed. She had hoped Riley would be reasonable about this. "I wasn't aware I was giving you an option about this. Release the demon." As she said those words, she thought, You had better be worth this, Clem.  
  
*** Riley was glad the darkness hid his exultant grin. He wouldn't even have to fake his report! The demon-slut and her vampire were right in his grasp. How nice of Buffy to make her capture so easy for him. He prepared to give his men the signal to open fire.  
  
***  
  
Hidden some distance away, but still in visual range of the ongoing crisis, Forrest called in the situation to Walsh. It had been easy enough to track Hostile 95 from her dorm to her lover's crypt, though their subsequent flirtatious banter had disgusted him. His stomach turned at the thought his best friend had ever wanted this demon-lover. He was tempted to allow Riley to take both down tonight, as Riley was obviously planning to do. But Walsh wanted them to wait, so additional orders were required.  
  
***  
  
In her office, Walsh debated on the best course of action. Part of her wanted Finn to continue with the capture he undoubtedly had planned, but she decided against that course of action. No, it would be better to let one measly little demon go and observe the Slayer/Vampire pair longer. She activated her link to Finn's communicator. This would serve as a test of his loyalty as well.  
  
"Stand down, Finn. Give the Slayer her demon; we can take them later. I don't want any trouble tonight."  
  
***  
  
Riley was barely able to restrain a roar of frustration as the order came in. He wanted so badly to ignore it and shoot the bitch like she deserved and stake that vampire a thousand times over. But his training won out.  
  
As Riley ordered the release of the prisoner, he promised himself he would make Buffy pay when the time came. Oh, she would pay.  
  
***  
  
Buffy tried not to sigh with relief as the bonds around Clem were cut. He was slowly coming to, groaning all the while. She bent down and pulled him away from the soldiers, giving them a smile and a "Thanks for understanding." There had been a tense couple of seconds, but it seemed her relationship with Riley wasn't as shot to hell as she had thought.  
  
Spike had a much better idea of how close they had come to death or worse. He continued glaring at the soldiers until they were gone. While Buffy helped Clem up, he scanned the area for further danger. Possibly a surprise attack from Soldier Boy; he wouldn't put it past him.  
  
By now, Clem was fully conscious and quite grateful. "I don't know what I was thinking going out alone. You hear stories about those guys but you never think it'll happen to you, you know? Boy am I glad you came along, Spike." To the strange blonde girl, he added politely, "And you too." A second later, his eyes widened. "Hey, you're the Slayer!"  
  
"So I am," Buffy said, amused. Clem seemed pretty nice, for a demon.  
  
"What're you doing hanging around a vamp like Spike for? Not that it's any of my business," Clem backpedaled hastily. It'd be real stupid to escape one danger only to piss off another. "It's just that I thought Spike was married and all, and I don't know that – "  
  
"She is my wife," Spike said abruptly. He added, "Let's get out of here. Don't want to take my chances again with the great git and company."  
  
"We have Riley to thank for letting Clem go."  
  
"No, we don't. He was about to shoot us too, but something changed. Don't know what, but I don't like it." Spike started to leave. Clem trotted behind him, mind still spinning from the revelation that bad ole Spike got himself hitched to a Slayer.  
  
"Riley would never shoot me!" Buffy protested. "You're making that up just because you don't like him."  
  
He snorted. "I don't. For good reason. He hates me, and maybe you too."  
  
"We used to date, for crying out loud," she snapped. "Why would he hate me?"  
  
Spike checked the points off his fingers. "Lied about being married; only had sex with him while possessed – both times may I add; not to mention the whole you let demons live thing. Anyone can tell that really pisses him off."  
  
"Whoa, you had sex with that guy?" Clem interjected.  
  
"Not intentionally," Buffy defended herself. "It just sort of happened."  
  
"That's the problem. Love, the man's a time bomb about to go off. Almost went off tonight. We just got lucky."  
  
"No, we didn't. Riley may not like you, and he may have problems with me, but he's a good guy. He'll do the right thing."  
  
"No, he won't."  
  
"Yes, he will."  
  
Spike realized this was one argument he couldn't win until Finn was in front of her with bloody hands standing over an innocent body. With a growl, he said, "Forget this. Let's go."  
  
"Let's not. We have to talk about this."  
  
"I said it's over."  
  
"Well I say it's not!"  
  
Clem looked from one angry face to another before quietly saying, "You've obviously got some stuff you want to talk about, so I'll just be going, thanks for the rescue and everything." He started to slip away, before things erupted.  
  
"No, you're not. We'll see you home safely. Didn't bloody well save you from the soldier boys to get you captured again."  
  
Buffy nodded, agreeing with Spike. "What he said."  
  
"Really, I don't want to be a bother......"  
  
"Clem, let's go." Spike's voice ended the discussion.  
  
The argument temporarily over, the three went off into the night. Behind them, a dark figure followed, dogging their every step. 


	21. Chapter Eighteen

Hi! I'm alive. Recent survivor of major writer's block, but alive. Here's the next chapter, a month and a half late

* * *

Chapter Eighteen  
  
Buffy stormed into her dorm room, slamming the door behind her. "Who does that bleached idiot think he is?!" she growled as she made her way to bed.  
  
Across the room, Willow stirred from her rest to see her best friend start a not so quiet fight with the pillow, punching it at random. Blinking her eyes, she asked, "The night of smoochie funness didn't turn out so good?"  
  
"No," Buffy answered, pausing mid punch. She turned to face Willow, her face all crumpled up. "It started out with the smoochie funness, then we had to go rescue Spike's friend Clem from the Initiative – "  
  
"Spike has a friend? Wouldn't he be all demony and evil?"  
  
"Clem's a demon, but he's a sweetheart. But Riley didn't know that when he and the rest were out patrolling, so I had to go over and there was this almost big scene which became a big scene after Riley was gone because Spike got super jealous and was all 'Soldier Boy's evil' and so I had to yell at him and then we walked Clem home and then we started yelling again."  
  
"Big argument?"  
  
"The biggest. Spike thinks I'm being stupid trusting the Initiative and that I should trust him instead but he got all husband equals I'm right when he said it so I got even madder at him and can't I trust my own instincts about these things and – "  
  
"Um, I thought your instincts said the Initiative was bad," Willow broke in quickly.  
  
"No, my instincts said the Initiative was not good. There's a difference. So maybe they should be a little more Animal Planet-y about chipping the demons and a little less mad scientist experiment-y that doesn't mean they're like Mayor bad or anything. Am I right?" Buffy didn't wait for an answer before plowing onward. "And besides, it's not like Spike is totally subjective, or dejective, or whichever 'jective it is that means you don't care –"  
  
"Objective?"  
  
"Yes! It's not like he's a totally objective observer here, with the chip and all. Of course he doesn't like them. They defanged him and everything. That doesn't make them evil!"  
  
"No......"  
  
"And, and since they're not evil that means he's got no business telling me I have to listen to him."  
  
Willow finally figured out what was going. Sometimes her friend was so easy to read. This wasn't about the Initiative; this was about two hardheaded, opinionated people unable to give in. "Buffy, do you trust Spike?"  
  
"He asked me the same thing."  
  
"And what was your answer?"  
  
"I don't know." Buffy sighed. To herself, she added, I told him I trusted him to know me. It's just everything else I'm not sure about.  
  
"Figure that out and your problem will be solved, one way or another," Willow advised before rolling over. "Now, could you turn out the light so I can get some sleep?"  
  
"'Kay."  
  
A few moments later, Buffy lay in the darkness, thinking. Thinking very hard.

* * *

Forrest stood at attention in Walsh's office, dutifully reciting his report on the targeted hostiles' activities.  
  
"Their interactions bear a mixture of affection and dislike. They argued a great deal about our organization's position in their lives. One hostile sees us as a threat, the other one believes we are allies. I believe this could be used to our advantage. However, despite current discord between them, they still functioned as an efficient unit in combat. Hostile 95 often acted more aggressively in their pursuit of HSTs. According to Hostile 17, his reason for 'hanging back' was that he trusted her to defend herself appropriately. Though he did engage in combat when the other was significantly threatened. The hostile continued this pattern of behavior even at the height of their argument when a serious threat emerged."  
  
From her desk, Walsh absentmindedly added, "Ah yes, the Polgara/vampire pair I sent after them. How long did that encounter last?"  
  
"The hostiles eliminated both threats within five minutes. It is in my opinion that if they fought in a more professional manner, it would have been less."  
  
Hmm. Her boys were far more professional than either hostile, and fighting a well-trained pair of demons would take a standard patrol group at least ten. Valuable information, but she wanted more.  
  
"Agent Gates, how would you characterize their more personal interactions?"  
  
"In many ways they mimic human codes of behavior for lovers. Prior to their encounter with Agent Finn's team, the hostiles behaved in a flirtatious manner. Afterwards, they grew more argumentative, but did maintain human standards that private affairs should not be discussed in front of outsiders. They ceased arguing upon escorting the freed HST to its lair. The two hostiles did not resume their dispute until after leaving the other HST."  
  
"So their behavior could pass for human?" Walsh made another note. She so rarely had a chance to see how HSTs were able to blend into human society. It was so nice to see it proven they performed the logical act of mimicking current cultural norms. "Is it mimicry or natural behavior?" she wondered aloud.  
  
"Ma'am?"  
  
"Nothing, agent. Did their interactions strike you as forced or natural?"  
  
"If I did not know their true nature, I would have thought both hostiles capable of the full spectrum of human emotion, including love."  
  
Walsh nodded. "Thank you for your observations. Dismissed."  
  
Gates saluted and left the office. Walsh watched him leave before ordering Finn to see her. Agent Riley Finn marched in, his expression unreadable, as it often was these days. Walsh wanted to sigh at that. He really was a good agent when he put his mind to it, but the situation with Summers was making him quite unstable. She hoped he would return to form once the mess had been cleaned up.  
  
"Finn," she began. "Do you know why you're here?"  
  
"No, ma'am."  
  
"Does your little stunt last night ring a bell? I believe you were prepared to disobey a direct order and perform an unsanctioned capture of a hostile."  
  
"I did not, ma'am."  
  
"I know. That is all that is saving you at the moment, Riley Finn. I do not like my orders questioned, even by as talented an agent as you."  
  
Finn preened a little by the compliment. Walsh allowed him his moment before continuing. "That being said, I wonder at the wisdom of allowing you to pursue your vendetta against the Slayer and her lover."  
  
"They present a risk to us."  
  
"Gates tells me that the Slayer believes we are no threat to her, and she is the only one in a position to harm us. In fact," she added coolly, "I'm considering reneging on my orders for the eventual capture of Hostile 95."  
  
At that, Riley felt himself grow hot with anger as something dark boiled inside him. The slut deserved this! She deserved all the torture the Initiative could deal out in the name of progress, her and her monster. It was what he dreamed about, what kept him from killing her in the cafeteria, on the quad, or any other time he was forced to see her traitor, demon face.  
  
Walsh watched his reaction. A monitor on her desk informed her that his body was experiencing the requisite chemical changes for strong emotion (the demons weren't the only chipped ones). While his face was turned purple and before he began to sputter, she continued. "Of course, that would mean you would be forbidden any personal revenge as well. If I gave you that order would you obey it?"  
  
Riley thought of Buffy, of what she did to him. What she represented. He was just barely able to answer the question, "Yes."  
  
Walsh leaned back. The boy was lying, but it was the most deceitful she'd ever seen him. He was growing up, wasn't he? Deciding the game was over, she spoke again. "Good. You remember your training. However, I intend for the plan to move ahead as scheduled."  
  
Finn's eyes did bug out in such an amusing way when he realized she had been playing with him. Walsh smiled inwardly. "I have decided to take Hostile 95 first, with a particular emphasis on how her lover reacts. The point of this is to study their reactions, after all. I want it done discreetly, too. Since she still believes you an ally, you will call her and arrange a meeting. Make up any pretense you like, but I want you and a team to take her at," she checked her notes, "25 East Street or thereabouts. Do it this afternoon."  
  
"Why there?"  
  
"Don't question me. Just be grateful I'm letting you and not someone else perform this mission. Oh, and Finn?"  
  
"Yes ma'am?"  
  
"I want her delivered in perfect condition. Do you hear me? Perfect condition. You can save your silly vengeance fantasies for another time."  
  
Riley's eyes burned. There went his first plan for capture. Hopefully Walsh would let him have a turn with her after Hostile 95 was in custody. There was so much they needed to discuss. He saluted and left, eager to finally betray the bitch.  
  
With Finn gone, Walsh finally let out the cat eating the canary smile she'd been holding in. This plan was perfect. She glanced down at her notes. 25 East Street was where the floppy eared demon of last night lived. With any luck, he would witness the hostile's capture and go running to her lover with the news. Then the fun would begin. She cracked her knuckles in anticipation before putting a call in to her fellow scientists for arranging the proper facilities and experiments for their new toy.

* * *

The professor was lecturing. Buffy had a strong feeling that today's lesson was important, as in final exam important, but she couldn't get up the energy to care.  
  
She was too busy obsessing about her fight with Spike.  
  
And that fact alone was obsess-worthy. Since when did she care about fighting him? That was what they did. Only this time, she felt all growly sick in her stomach. And a person only gets growly sick like that when they feel guilty about something. What did she have to feel guilty about, anyway?  
  
Oh. Yeah. The whole I told my husband I don't trust him thing. That was pretty cold. Especially since her blasted moral voice was informing her that Spike was right – either give him his due or toss the ring and the whole package down the drain.  
  
Why couldn't the stupid soldier boys (to borrow a phrase) have left well enough alone last night? Then she wouldn't be lying alone in her bed, she'd be sharing long, hot kisses with her lover. And then some.  
  
The way things stood right now, she certainly wouldn't be initiating any kissing. Ugh, initiating. Bad word choice. Made her think of the Initiative. Yet another BIG ISSUE in the life of Buffy Summers. On one hand, Spike was saying they were demony Mayor bad. And he was her husband. Okay, this is the nineties so that doesn't make him her lord and master or anything, but still. That meant a lot. And if it meant so much, shouldn't she respect his opinions? Especially when he might be right? Buffy bit her lip. That goes back to the whole not her lord and master thing. Her opinions should matter, too!  
  
The only trouble is, the Initiative had always given her ooky tingles on her neck. And now she was defending them? Did she really believe what she had told him and Willow? Or was the little whisper, goading her into defending the Initiative, really saying up because Spike was saying down? Was their relationship that based in contradictions?  
  
Slayer. Vampire.  
  
Alive. Dead (well, undead).  
  
Good. Evil.  
  
Whenever Buffy really thought about its, like she was right now, she wondered why she had agreed to try this accidental marriage. What made her think he was the man for her? Was he even a man?  
  
That reminded her of Willow's question from before. Did she trust him?  
  
Yes for both, Buffy decided. She wasn't sure what kind of man he was, but the depths he revealed to her cinched it. Spike was a man, one she trusted.  
  
So maybe that was the only real difference between them.  
  
Woman. Man.  
  
But what came next? As Buffy struggled with that question, an unwelcome voice disrupted her thoughts.  
  
"Summers, care to explain the example on the board?"

* * *

After making the necessary arrangements with his team, Riley returned to his dorm room, ready to contact Buffy and lure her to the correct location. As he pressed the buttons to call her, he savored the moment. The Slayer would soon be done playing games with him. Soon it would be time for him to play games with her.  
  
The last buttons was pushed. A pause, and then the phone began to ring. And ring. And ring.

* * *

Returning from her last class of the day, Buffy heard the phone ringing while still in the hallway. She quickly opened the door, muttering a curse as her books spilled on the floor in her haste. Walsh's pick on Buffy spree had sucked big time, making her even crankier.  
  
With such thoughts going through her head, Buffy tripped over her notebook, Slayer reflexes failing her. That rug burn was going to hurt.  
  
Finally she reached the phone.  
  
"Hello?"

* * *

"Hello?"  
  
Riley started, momentarily surprised that someone at last had picked up. He gathered his wits (what little there were to gather) and answered. "Buffy, it's Riley."

* * *

Buffy slumped against the side of her bed. Riley. It had to be Riley. Of course! She was still muddled up inside over her Spike fight, so the Fates would have to decree Riley to call, just to make things worse.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
Way to be rude, Buff. But oddly enough, she didn't quite care.

* * *

"I think we need to meet somewhere and talk," Riley said into the receiver, using his most earnest voice. "Last night could have turned into a disaster. It's high time we figure out where the other stands. Get our information straight once and for all. What do you think?" He waited tensely for her reply.

* * *

"What do you think?"  
  
Buffy stared down at the phone, trying to figure out how to reply. The request was legitimate, and it would give her a chance to prove that she was right. If she was right.  
  
"I think that's a good idea. We're on the same side. We need to be on speaking terms."

* * *

No, we're not on the same side, you bitch! Riley wanted to scream. But Walsh wanted this capture done, and done clean, so he controlled himself.  
  
"Good. I'll meet you on East Street in an hour, then."

* * *

Buffy frowned. "East Street? Why not here on campus? That's on the other side of town."  
  
That was an odd request. Hmm, East Street. Wasn't she there recently?

* * *

Uh-oh. Riley scanned his mind for a plausible excuse. "Uh, I, uh have an apartment there," he improvised, "I keep some of our files there. I'll need them if we're going to do an info-sharing session."  
  
A pause. He waited.

* * *

Buffy decided she needed to clear up the Riley/Initiative situation. A meeting would prove once and for all where they stood. She needed the closure on this before she started fixing whatever broke between her and Spike last night.  
  
"Okay, I'll meet you there. What's the address?"

* * *

Riley didn't even bother controlling his grin. She was dumb, wasn't she? "24 East Street. You can't miss it."  
  
"I'll see you there." Click.  
  
Oh, you will, he thought. I want you to get a good look at me when I shoot you, you betraying, demon loving whore.

* * *

Buffy set down the receiver and stood up. In the back of her mind, a very suspicious voice with a British accent was hissing that something was off. She shrugged away the feeling and headed to the door.  
  
This was Riley, after all. She could kick his butt with her eyes closed. So there! she told her Spike voice as she marched out the door.

* * *

At 24 East Street, Riley waited, along with four other men. Their rifles were at ready as they crouched silently behind innocuous furniture. He himself held a taser, currently hidden in his pocket. Outside, a van's engine idled as it waited for a hostile to transport away.  
  
All they needed was for her to show.  
  
Riley's eyes flicked to his watch as the seconds ticked by. She would show any moment now.  
  
His communicator buzzed. Riley jerked at the sudden sound. Quickly, he activated it. Over the link, a voice informed him, "Target is approaching the building."  
  
Finally. He motioned to his men to get ready. Not that he needed to – these guys were always ready.  
  
There was a knock on the door. Riley tensed a moment, then stepped forward to welcome in his 'guest'.

* * *

Buffy snapped her piece of Bubbilicious gum, courtesy of an entirely justified raid on Willow's candy stash, and waited for someone to answer the door. Across the street, she noticed a building that looked an awful lot like the one they brought Clem to last night.  
  
Ugh. Thinking of last night was making her feel all bad again. As soon as she finished this make-nice session with Riley, she was going to have to go all Apology Girl on Spike. Then the growly bad feeling would be replaced with humiliation, because she hated apologizing to Spike. Especially when he deserved it. Which he did, after her whole I don't really trust you or your opinion rant.  
  
The door opened before she could sink into full pout mode. "Come on in, Buffy," Riley said as he ushered her in.  
  
Buffy looked around the room. It seemed a bit nicer than anything a grad student or an army guy could afford. "Nice place you got here."  
  
Riley shrugged. "It works." He turned, facing her straight on, a hand in his pocket.  
  
Buffy stood there. "So," she began a little awkwardly, "what do you figure we need to talk about? I was thinking that your guys talking to Giles about the not so evil demony-types would be a good place to start – "  
  
"That's not why I asked you here," Riley told her.  
  
Buffy blinked, then sighed. "Riley, if this is your way of asking me out on a date, I'd like to point out that you know very well that I'm not available."  
  
"Like I'd want a whore like you."  
  
"What did you just call me?" she demanded. Her spidey sense, which had been murmuring since she walked in, started screaming at her. Her feet shifted slightly and she prepared to head to the door.  
  
Riley didn't respond. He simply said, "Get her."  
  
Two chairs and a sofa were knocked away as the Initiative team rushed her. Buffy dealt one a quick kick and another a punch as she sprinted for the door. Fighting guys with guns in a small room was a bad idea. Her hand closed around the knob. It wouldn't budge. She prepared to kick the door open when two goons grabbed her by the arms. No worries. It wouldn't take much of a Slayer's strength to throw off two grown men. As her muscles tensed, something struck her legs, making them go numb. One of the men she'd knocked to the ground had taken some sort of cattle prod thing to her. Okay, worrying now. Buffy realized she would collapse to the ground if the two men weren't holding her up. They turned her, making her face Agent Riley Finn.  
  
Riley. Riley! He had set her up! After all the time she spent defending him to Spike, he had set her up! There was some sort of irony at play here, but Buffy was too pissed to see it. "You bastard!" she snarled, spitting her gum at him. The gum made messy pink tracks through his perfect soldier boy hair. Buffy smirked. Petty revenge had its moments.  
  
Riley saw that smirk. Didn't she know she was defeated? She was going to get tortured, and so was her lover, and this was all going to give him one big happy. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the taser.  
  
"What are you going to do, shave me?" Buffy snapped.  
  
"No. I'll leave that decision to the brains over at the Initiative. I'm sure they have all sorts of tests to perform on an HST like yourself. Maybe you'll even get a chip to match your husband's."  
  
"Are you trying for the witty evil villain remark? Because that's just lame."  
  
"Don't you get it?" Riley pressed the taser against her flesh. She screamed as the electricity crackled through her. "You're the evil one here."  
  
As Buffy's world faded to black, her last thought was – Why did Spike have to be right?!

* * *

The soldiers quickly bound the hostile and carried her into the van. Across the street, a floppy eared demon looked out the window, his favorite soap on a commercial break. As a sultry voiced woman promised softer, smoother skin with a new lotion, Clem's eyes widened as he realized that the pretty unconscious lady was Spike's girl. Oh boy, this didn't look good at all. The people carrying her were real scary looking, like the guys from last night. No, they were the same ones! His ears quivered in fear at the thought.  
  
Its cargo now in place, the van rumbled off. The danger gone, Clem stood up. Spike needed to know that his ladyfriend had gotten herself Slayernapped. His ears trembled some more. Giving a vampire bad news was never fun. 


	22. Chapter Nineteen

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Special thanks to Chelle86 for being her beta friend best.

_Chapter Nineteen_

Why do I even bother? That was the question raging through Spike's mind as he paced, an empty flask in his hand. Periodically he stopped and tried to take a drink, only to remember he had finished off all the alcohol hours ago. Which was, of course, her fault. If she hadn't been so, so –

"ARGH!" Spike flung the drained dry bottle across the room, the glass shattering in a satisfying explosion of temper.

And what a temper. Buffy's words last night had stung. It wasn't just that they had fought; no, it was worse. It was that she had so loudly and clearly told him that he didn't matter. That the ring she wore was just a piece of metal. That everything they'd slowly been creeping towards could crash and burn the instant he dared do something as simple as worry about her. Try to warn her. Try to be everything a man should be when his wife WAS ABOUT TO GET HERSELF KILLED!

"What the hell is she thinking?!" he shouted to the empty crypt. "They're trouble. I know they're trouble. She knows. Then why the bloody hell won't she admit it? I know why. 'Cause she's a – "

"Uh, Spike?"

A timid voice broke his train of thought. Spike spun around, finally spotting Clem cowering near the doorway.

"Uh, Spike, I hate to bother you, it's obvious you're in the middle of, uh, something," Clem began to speak.

Spike shot the other demon a 'duh, you idiot' Glare of Death. "I'm ranting here! You know what happened last night? My lovely wife Buffy just told me she didn't give a flying f – "

"I have something to tell you about Buffy!" Clem interrupted, twitching his ears nervously.

"What, she have to save you from the commandoes again? Maybe that'd knock some sense into her incredibly thick skull," Spike snarled.

"Well, you see, the thing is – "

"Of course, that wouldn't work. Slayer would make up some excuse for them. Never mind the fact Soldier Boy's gone mad, no, she wouldn't notice that. Instead she'd rather spend all night nitpicking about a little petty larceny. So what if I help myself to the occasional wallet? Where's that in the scheme of things, compared to say torture?"

"Spike."

"Then she goes off on 'well, you used to do that too, Mr. I-Got-My-Name-Stabbing-People-With-Railroad-Spikes'. Well screw you Slayer! At least I admit where I am on your bloody scale of morality. Your precious soldiers are doing the same thing and calling themselves saints. You just wait and see how saintly they are when you're on the rack!"

"Yeah, about that – "

"And don't go looking to me for help because IT WILL BE ALL YOUR FAULT!" Spike shouted, his rant finally coming to an end.

Clem saw his opening and took it. "Buffy's been kidnapped by the Initiative!"

Spike rushed over and shoved the weaker demon up against the wall. "What? Why didn't you say so in the first place? What happened? Where is she?"

"She's kidnapped, I saw it happen across the street they put her in a van and drove away and I don't know where they took her – "

"Well you should have followed them then!" Spike roared.

Clem winced. This was what he was worried about. "I thought I needed to tell you first! I mean, if they got me too then both of us would be gone. And then who would tell you?"

Spike closed his eyes and took a deep ragged breath before letting Clem down. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Relieved his friend was no longer looking to rip his head off, Clem quickly recounted everything he had seen from his window.

While Clem was talking, Spike was mulling over his next course of action. He would have thought his first reaction would be, "To hell with this, let her burn." Instead, here he was planning a rescue mission for someone who probably didn't love him anyway. Did he care?

At the moment.........no, he didn't. All he cared about was Buffy being all right.

Clem finished. Spike looked up and said, "Okay. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to go in there, and get her back."

"We?" squeaked Clem.

"Yes, we. You owe her, and you owe me. We."

"Whatever you say, Spike."

"Right then. Let's go."

"Don't we need weapons?"

"Help yourself. Get me the axe."

"Okey-dokey."

They marched out the door. Well, Spike marched and Clem reluctantly trailed behind.

They made it about five steps before they bumped into Anya.

"Spike! And another demon whose name I do not know!"

Anya looked ready for a chat. Spike did NOT have time for a chatty Anya. "Look, I'm in a hurry – "

"In the interest of facilitating your relationship with Buffy, I have come to invite you to go out to dinner with Xander and me. I hope that this will make Xander be nicer to you and support your marriage to Buffy. My magazines always say relationships have a better chance of survival if family and friends support you." She turned to Clem, "However, you are not invited. Though I do know a lovely Mistan'I who is currently single."

"Really? What's her number?" Clem asked eagerly.

"Let me check my cell," Anya began to say, before Spike slammed his axe into the ground. Anya and Clem jumped. Clem accidentally set his crossbow off. A cat yowled in the distance.

"The Initiative has Buffy," he growled. "We don't have time for this."

"The commandoes have Buffy? Do you have a plan to rescue her?"

"Yes. Find her, get her out, bring her back."

"That's not a very good plan," Anya remarked. "Xander could make a better plan."

"No he couldn't."

"Yes, he could. Xander knows a lot about soldiers. He broke into an army base once," she said proudly.

"Well, bully for him."

"To successfully rescue Buffy, you might need his help. In fact, you will probably need Willow too. She is good with computers. And magic. But I am better with magic," Anya added defiantly.

Clem glanced over at Spike. "You know, that's not such a bad idea."

It really wasn't. Spike sighed. "Right then, to Scooby Central we go."

"You mean to Giles?"

"Yes Anya, to Giles."

They set off.

"You know, I've always liked that show. Especially the dog. Wow, he's really funny."

"Clem? Shut up."

* * *

Scooby Central. Home of the Scoobies. Spike glared at all of them, just on general principle. They were bickering over the best way to rescue Buffy. Also on whether or not he should be included. Xander thought this was all part of some sort of evil plan on Spike's part that would get them all killed. Spike had almost ripped the whelp's head off for daring to say he'd hurt Buffy like that.

He probably would have if the chip hadn't fired.

So now he was sitting in the corner, nursing a headache while slowly being excluded from the plans to rescue **his** wife. Not Xander's wife, or Giles' wife, or Willow's wife. Though the last image did sound worth considering.........

Get yourself back on track, a Buffy-like voice told him. You can be such a pig!

"I could hack into their system and shut it down," Willow suggested across the room.

"First we have to find a way to enter their complex before we can consider such tactics."

"Well, we need such tactics considered when we go in there."

"What she said."

"M-maybe a spell that disrupts e-electricity?"

"Oh! Yeah, we could use that."

Spike was ready to jump up and scream at them, "Stop sitting around and DO something! She's in danger and she needs our help now!"

The last time he had done that was five minutes ago. Anya had patted him sympathetically on the arm and pointed out that they could all die if they didn't have a plan beyond 'rescue Buffy'. And then she added that she disliked the thought of her death or Xander's.

He should have just taken Clem and gone after Buffy himself.

* * *

On her monitor, the scene inside the Giles house played. Walsh watched the images intently, sipping her coffee. It had the right amount sugar now, after she had a little chat with the supply department.

Oh look, the vampire's microchip was activated. How nice to see her inventions in action. It made her feel all warm inside. Of course, that could be the coffee.

Behind her, Walsh heard Finn enter the room. She didn't acknowledge his presence until after she finished her coffee. There were some things that just shouldn't be interrupted. A good cup of coffee was one of them. And there was always the power play factor. She so loved those.

Finally, she turned around. "What do you have for me?"

"The hostile has been taken and is being secured as we speak, ma'am," Finn reported. He had a bald patch at the top of his head. Walsh smirked. She had already been informed of the gum incident.

"Good. Tell them to dose her with a stimulant, I don't want to be waiting all night for her to regain consciousness."

"Yes ma'am." Finn paused, peering at the monitor. Hostile 17 was gesticulating wildly, a blonde woman at his side, speaking earnestly. "Do you want me to arrange for the other HST's capture?"

"No. He is planning an ill fated 'rescue attempt'; it will be amusing and educational to watch. You are dismissed."

"Yes ma'am."

Walsh smiled as Finn left. He was much better behaved now that the Slayer was in custody. No doubt looking forward to the planned experiments. As was she.

It was not every day she had her hands on such a specimen.

* * *

Her head hurt.

Her arms hurt

Her chest hurt

In fact, Buffy was pretty damn sure that her toes hurt. Her entire body resonated with a sort of aching buzz. And her heart was pounding in a funny way. Kind of like running a race, except not. Since she wasn't actually running.

Come to think of it, what was she doing?

Buffy reached out to test her surroundings. She was lying down. On something hard, but with a little give. Sort of like chairs in a waiting room – rocks covered with this thin layer of squishy cloth so you can pretend you're comfortable. Buffy tried to sit up.

First of all, that made her head spin.

Second of all, she couldn't. There were straps on her arms and legs, pinning her to the waiting room chair board thing.

This was not good.

Buffy opened her eyes. She was in the center of a sterile, white room. There were people in lab coats walking around. Lots of machinery and tubes and things she didn't know the name of were being pushed in her general direction.

This was really not good.

One lab coat guy noticed she was awake and walked over, clipboard in hand. He glanced at it a moment, then glanced at something beside her. Buffy turned her head and saw him looking at some sort of monitor. That's when she saw the wires leading from her to the thing. Great, way to go creepy sci-fi on her.

He wrote some stuff down and checked his watch, giving a soft whistle. Then he waved some other lab coat guy over. "Tell her the subject has regained awareness."

Her?

Other guy left. Clipboard Guy stared down at his, well, clipboard and hmmed.

Buffy decided it was time to start with her trademark quips. "Tell me doctor, will I ever play the piano again?"

Clipboard Guy looked up, as if surprised she could talk. He then proceeded to scribble something down. Buffy wondered if he was making notes, 'Subject tells bad jokes'. As she prepared to ask him that, she noticed Professor Walsh and Riley heading towards her. What? She was expecting Riley, but when did Walsh get here?

Walsh was walking in front of Riley. In fact, everyone in the room was parting for Walsh. Huh. Guess she really was a heinous bitch.

"You know, I hope this isn't going to affect my grade this semester," she managed to say. "Unless it's extra credit. I could go for some extra credit."

"Indeed you could," Walsh remarked dryly. "Your last test was abominable."

"What can I say? I was busy." Buffy raised her head and met Walsh's eyes. "Out of curiosity, what's the big evil plan?"

"There is no evil plan," Riley snapped. "You are the only evil one here."

Buffy rolled her eyes. She noticed that Walsh did too at Riley's outburst. "I heard you the first time. By the way, nice haircut," she said, nodding to the bald patch where he had obviously taken scissors to his gummed up hair.

Riley glowered.

"You are an anomaly. I study anomalies. You may call that the 'big evil plan' if you wish. I do not care."

"You're all heart. So I'm not here to satisfy Riley's dreams of burning bondage love?"

Riley started, a panicked expression on his face, and then glowered some more. He began to rant about something. Possibly Buffy's innate evilness. Buffy ignored him and focused on Walsh. "Some guys just don't handle the break-up well, do they?"

"Indeed," Walsh said, equally ignoring Finn. "I have set up a series of tests especially for you, Hostile 95."

"Don't I feel special. That just made my day! Well, that and being zapped to kingdom come by a bunch of supposedly friendly fellow demon killers.

"We do not kill them," Walsh explained, "that is a waste of knowledge. No, we – "

"Go all mad scientist on them. Gotcha. So what are you going to do, Dr. Frankenstein?"

"Do?"

"With all your demon research. Now that I'm on the list, I figure I have the right to know."

"Learn to control, to contain, and to use HSTs for our benefit."

"Oh. I see. More toys for the big boys to play with." Buffy paused. "So where do I fit in?"

Walsh studied Buffy for a moment. "In two ways. One, you are rumored to possess certain abilities beyond that of a human female. And two, you are engaged in a relationship with another hostile. In fact, you consider yourself married. I am fascinated from a psychological standpoint that hostiles mimicked human mating practices. That is my specialty, after all."

"So how about you give me a physical and I fill out a survey for you and we all go home happy?"

"No. Insufficient data. Speaking of that, we will begin the procedure now." Walsh flicked her eyes over to Finn. He was jumping up and down in a highly unprofessional and eager manner. "You may begin, Agent Finn."

Walsh swept out of the room. These were only preliminary tests, of little interest to her. She lingered only to order the head researcher to record anything the subject said or did of interest.

Buffy watched her leave. She had hoped that this year's villain would be a little bit more, you know, villainy. At least some evil mwa-ha-ha-ing. Even the Mayor did that. He did it in an aw-shucks, I'm evil way, but at least he understood how these things worked. Walsh, Riley and the rest of the Initiative just didn't get it.

Speaking of.........

Buffy turned her attention to Riley. The boyfriend who almost was. He stood there with a psychotic grin on his face that reminded her of his idiotic grin. She used to think it was cute, but with the impending torture and all, he was totally losing the cuteness factor.

Spike was right. Riley was an enormous git. And whatever other insults her husband had come up with.

Spike. At that thought, Buffy felt her stomach churn with worry and regret. If only she hadn't been so stubborn. All she had to do was at least acknowledge that he could be right. Then she wouldn't have gone after Riley without back up.

Well, she probably wouldn't have taken back up. She never did. But she would have left a note! Really. She would have.

Notes tell people things, so when she suddenly turns up missing (and how can she turn up missing, she's not there, so how can she turn up? she can't, so how do they know she's missing?), they know where to look.

But she didn't. Leave a note, that is. She was note-less, and strapped to a seriously uncomfortable board while her ex prepared to push buttons and make her scream.

And not in the way Spike made her scream.

"You know you brought this on yourself," Riley told her seriously as he watched the lab tech guy hit switches.

"Yeah, and you hitting me and strapping me down and sticking needles in me had absolutely nothing to do with it."

"Actually, the technicians did the strapping and the needles. I don't have that kind of training."

"You wouldn't."

Riley frowned, trying to figure out if she had just insulted him. She had. He forged onward.

"You could have joined us."

"And together ruled the galaxy as father and son? Or whatever your psycho brain came up with? I don't think so, lover boy."

Riley ignored her. "You chose the monsters instead. You are now another hostile that must be captured, contained, and studied."

"This is because I'm with Spike? You went all psycho because I decided to stay married to my husband?" Spike had really hit the nail on the head in their last argument. He'd insisted Riley was getting a little too crazy jealous.

"Monsters do not truly marry. Nor do they love. They can only mimic human emotions for the purpose of maintaining their illusion of humanity."

"The only one doing that here is you, Riley. I can't believe I ever thought you were even half the man Spike is. He loves me."

And I love him. I do! I didn't realize that until I see the guy I thought was going to be the One getting ready to hurt me. Spike would never do that. Well, now he wouldn't. Though after last night......... Buffy felt herself panicking. Does he still love me? Did he ever tell me, and did I tell him? Am I going to die here without ever letting him know?

Why did I have to be so stubborn! Why couldn't I have just let him in? He was letting _me_ in. He was letting me set the pace and call the shots and he stood by my side and I let him down.

Buffy tried to her hand and see her ring sparkle, only to feel the bite of the straps restraining her. All she could do was twitch her fingers and feel the reassuring pressure. This does mean something to me, she thought. It means everything.

"I'll tell him you said that when he arrives. Commander Walsh is currently watching our sensors for a rescue attempt by Hostile 17. I personally don't believe he will be that stupid, but she does. I hope she's right. Then we can truly see some justice done."

Buffy was summoning her thoughts for an appropriate comeback (something beyond the NOOO! that reverberated through every inch of her being) when Riley finally gave the technician the signal.

"AAAHH!"

The technician looked up. "Success. We are ready to begin testing the subject's response to stimuli."

Riley smiled. "Good."

Spike.........


End file.
